Serendipity
by Askevron
Summary: Erik/Charles AU based on the X-Men First Class movie on request for Rikkamaru where Charles and Erik meet within the concentration camps, and both suffer from Schmidt's experiments, before meeting again years later...
1. Chapter 1

**This is an AU based on the X-Men First Class movie on request for Rikkamaru where Charles and Erik meet within the concentration camps, and both suffer from Schmidt's experiments, before meeting again years later...**

**Disclaimer - all characters belong to Marvel and associates, I'm just borrowing them for a while here...**

* * *

**Chapter 1 – Lost & Found**

_**Present (Erik has finally come face to face with his nemesis aboard the Caspartina)**_

"Little Erik Lehnsherr," Schmidt greets with a smile on his face. The blond woman by his side however frowns, and Erik stops as he feels something brush against his mind.

"He's here to kill you," she frowns, and then her presence is a weight in his mind, bearing him down to the deck. Telepath - she's a telepath just like –

He freezes the thought, but feels her sudden interest, but he has learned a few tricks of his own. Mental laughter fills his mind, and she grins and falters recoiling as he deliberately brings up his most pain filled memories, mostly of Schmidt's manic face as he enacted his torture.

_Snap. _

Emma is caught by Shaw's strong grip as she's thrown out of Lehnsherr's mind. How is that even possible?

The knife flies from the metal manipulator's palm, and is intercepted by the telepath with startling speed as she shifts to a glittering diamond like form, suddenly blinding to look upon, and sends him flying overboard.

Emma turns round as the foghorns announce the arrival of the coastguard, and frowns as she picks up on another presence. "They have a telepath," she realises, and a look which she can't quite decipher crosses Schmidt's face. He looks back towards the water where Lehnsherr has fallen, and then there's an ominous groan of straining metal as the ship's anchor rises in the air. She gapes in astonishment, and then she's running for her life as Schmidt grabs her arm, the ship tearing itself apart around them.

* * *

"Wait," Charles's commands with a sharp wince stopping dead on the gangway, two fingers pressed against his temples in a familiar enough gesture. "There's someone in the water," he exhales, leaving the others to catch up as he races for the deck.

* * *

Schmidt is getting away. No he is not escaping, not now. Erik's spent too long carefully tracking him. There may never be another opportunity – he barely registers as the water surrounds him locked with focused determination on the metallic craft on the edges of his vision.

_You can't you'll drown. Let it go...I know what this means to you, but you're going to die. Please Erik calm your mind. _

His mind has snapped, he's imaging things now. _That_ voice in his mind, yet he can't fight it as he's dragged away from his life's goal, his body leaden to his commands. As soon as they break the surface of the water he takes a deep gulp of air, and tears free from the arms holding him. "No get off me," he gasps about to ask just who the hell the man thinks he is, and instead finds himself staring.

"I thought I was alone," he mumbles dazedly, and his companion gives a manic grin. "You're not alone. Erik, you're not alone."

It cannot be.

It cannot **not** be.

Only one person has such luminescent blue eyes. A telepath he met in another world, another life, so long ago. He was but a boy then, and Erik hadn't been much older. He almost seemed a dream, crafted by his fraying grief stricken mind in order to save what remained of his sanity.

There's a metal bracelet on the man's wrist composed of a patchwork of pilfered silver and alloys - its calling to Erik like a siren. He only ever crafted one such piece as a gift for the only one he would ever call friend. He ignores the sharp gasp, calling the metal towards him, and enfolds that glittering wrist tightly. The metal is warm, and thrumming with a fast beating pulse.

He's alive, he's _real, _he's here.

_"Charles," _he breathes. The younger man jerks back, alarm flaring in his features, "Who are you?" He demands skittishly, and Erik exhales carefully, _is it possible the telepath doesn't know? Hasn't recognised him? _But no, there's something – some glittering awareness in those dazzling eyes.

_You know me Charles, _he projects strongly, and feels the tentative questing brush against his mental shield. He drops it, opening his mind to the younger man, welcoming him in.

"Erik," he exhales, "You're real." He laughs softly at that, and slowly reaches out to brush that pale face, just to touch him once more. "Yes maus," he answers carefully, so carefully as though he's going to scare him away.

The younger man's eyes close and his face scrunches up in pain, "It's not true, I made you up." Erik laughs, and ensnares him in his arms. "I thought so too, you were too perfect," _show me, _he entreats impatiently, _show_ _me everything_. Charles swallows, breathing raggedly against his shoulder, fingers knotting against his wetsuit.

_I'm here Charles, look open your eyes, _Erik commands softly, _Look at me. _

Their eyes catch, and hold measuring the long passing of years apart.

A flurry of images pass by in a blur, a hazy chorus of events, memories, places, an exchange of dazzling speed too fast, too much to process in such little time; a blossoming echoing pathway resonating between them.

It feels like coming home, or rather what Erik imagines it feels like. The scorching heat of Summer fills his heart, after Winter's cold pause; for so long he's kept tight necessary rein on his emotions, now he's overwhelmed as the icy walls round his heart shatter. Emotions flood him foremost: joy, that Charles is _real, _no imagined figment of his mind, and with that realisation a wave of conflicting complexity of _love_ so powerful Erik's rendered speechless.

He's never believed in fairytales but to touch minds with a telepath like Charles is to know him deeply and instantly. They have shared more than many people over a lifetime, and a bond forged in harsh circumstance flares to life once more as Erik perceives that the boy he knew then, and this young man are one and the same.

Erik pulls him desperately closer as a sharp crippling fear fills his lungs because if Schmidt ever found out what Charles could truly do…

As his mind shifts to coiled alertness Charles stirs, lifting his head from Erik's shoulder. _I've got you,_ he projects steadily without breaking his gaze from the approaching vessel. The younger man catches his wrist, "No Erik, they are - allies." The metal manipulator tightens his grip looking down at him, "Charles what is going on?"

"The CIA know."

"CIA?" Erik responds incredulously, releasing the younger man who takes a moment to find his balance in the choppy waves before facing him. "You don't have to come, I'll tell them you got away," Charles responds, and then gasps as his wrist is captured and encircled by Erik's hand. The metal manipulator's eyes are dark, "Charles this isn't a game, you can't get involved." The younger man shakes his head defiantly, "I already am - they came to me."

"What?" Erik asks mind spinning at the implications. Just what did they want with Charles? Did they have some way of finding people like themselves?

_Agent __Moira McTaggart saw some pretty 'fantastical' abilities, and sought out the advice of one expert in genetics. _

"You must have quite a reputation," Erik notes carefully, and Charles smirks, "Top of my field."

"I would expect no less," Erik grins back. Charles flushes before looking behind him. "Are you ready?" He asks, and Erik sends a pulse of energy through his wrist in confirmation, "I can see you're only going to get yourself into trouble if I don't. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

* * *

_**Fifteen Years Earlier**_

_CHARLES! CHARLES!_

He woke with a start, heart pounding in his chest, uncertain for several moments whether he was still dreaming.

_CHARLES! CHARLES!_

Raven. She was terrified. _Charles! They're here! They've come to take me away! _

_Shh, I'm here, _he projected back a strong wave of reassurance, hoping it would calm her irrational fear. _No one knows you are here so how can they come to get you? _

_I don't know…but why else would they be sneaking around?_

_Who?_

_The men in the kitchen…_

Men in the kitchen…sneaking…up to no good.

_Raven where are you? _

_I woke up and was hungry, and you said I could…_

_It's alright, I'm coming, stay there. Can I borrow your eyes?_

Raven's control over her shapeshifting vanishes when she's emotional, he helps to steady her helping her calm. He can feel the intruders now, their unfamiliar minds brushing up against his own. He gasps, catching himself against the stair banister. Their minds are hard, angry and tainted by the familiar blur of alcohol. An effect he's come to recognise more and more in his mother's mind, since his father has been called to London working on some government project or other vital to the war effort against Germany.

Edgar's mind is full of sharp suspicious angles and edges, he's a tall scrawny looking man, and the most sober of the lot. Oliver's thoughts are sluggish, like wading through something sticky, and unpleasant. Toby…Toby is right in front of him, staring down with an unpleasant grin on his face.

With a cry of surprise, Charles pulls out of Raven's mind, and drops the wooden club. There's a loud crash as a near vase hovers in the air, before dropping with a shattering crash to the ground. "What the…" Toby's eyes widen in surprise, before his hands move to Charles. "That was you…wasn't it?"

Charles swallows, attempting to back away his back hitting the wall, and Toby's hand fixes in his collar. "Bloody hell – what did you knock over?" Edgar hisses.

"How come you're always assuming I did something? It wasn't me! The kid did it!"

"Kid?" Edgar frowns, "Oh hell Toby-what have you done?"

"What are you doing here? You're trespassing," Charles demands, summoning his courage. "Listen kid – you'll forget we were ever here," Toby threatens yet its ruined as he attempts to fall over. Edgar frowns, "We have to go. You'll have woken the whole house with that racket. Knock the kid out and-"

Oliver, left alone in the kitchen gives a startled cry. "What the-" Edgar's turning back and – Raven- "No!" Charles yells, tackling the taller man from behind. Startled by the unexpected attack, Edgar falls to the floor. _Charles! _Raven cries out, and he meets her gaze, where she's hanging onto the underside of the table. _Raven – stay there! _

"You little-" Toby growls, and Charles doesn't have time to do anything as something explodes in front of his vision.

She barely stifles a scream as Charles crumples to the ground, she can't move, or tear her gaze from his body. What if he doesn't wake up?

"You idiot we could have probably ransomed him…and now you've probably killed him," Edgar grumbles. "He's just a kid…I didn't sign up for this," Oliver murmurs.

Through a haze of pain the world slowly comes back into focus for Charles, but he can't seem to focus properly. "Hey look he's awake," a heavy hand lands on his shoulder, making him jump. What Charles doesn't see is the plates that hover in the air before landing with a shattering crash upon the ground.

"What the hell?" Oliver gasps. "I told you-the kid is possessed," Toby announces excitedly.

_Charles, _Raven whimpers.

_Stay there don't move, _he instructs firmly resolutely not looking at her. There was something about this man that reeked a warning he didn't want him anywhere near his sister.

A focused intent fills Edgar's features, "Oh Gods I thought he was joking, but its true…there are people who can…" A cunning smile fills the man's eyes as he steps forwards, and Charles nervously backs into the kitchen shelf. "I bet they don't even know do they?" The man smiles a predatory smile of teeth. "If you come with me now – no one else has to get hurt, you hear me kid?"

_Charles no, don't listen to him. _

_Raven he means it – I can see it in his thoughts if I don't he could come back and hurt you, mother, and the others…I'll figure a way out of this. _

_You think no one is going to notice you're gone? _

_Mother hardly sees us anyway…and I won't be long. _

_But Charles-_

_Raven if it comes to that – you need to mimic me – like we practised, at least for a little while ok? _

_No – Charles, I can't let you just go – _

_Shh, sleep Raven, it will be ok, I'll be back before you know it…_

* * *

Charles really only intended to see what the men were up to, and then find some way to return home, after fudging their memories of him. He was sure he could do it, he had managed to do it once before with mother convincing her of Raven, though that had taken a lot of work, and he felt strangely drained at the moment. What had that been with the plates? He had never been able to do anything like that before…another aspect of his telepathy or something else entirely?

He doesn't quite remember falling asleep, or what has happened, but to his dismay, when he wakens he has no idea where he is other than that he is on a boat somewhere. His arms are still bound, and Edgar is nowhere to be seen. He glances at the man who must be the strange captain for this crossing, and picks out the conversation in his mind. It seemed Edgar had been unhappy with the arrangement but the captain indifferent he would take the boy, and deliver him to Schmidt who would then arrange payment if he was happy with the deal.

Charles tries to direct the captain's mind, to turn the ship around, but is met with a wall of _current's not right, the weather is about to turn, _and decides against it. Wherever they are going to land hopefully it won't be too far down the coast, miserably he closes his eyes against the sickness in his head, and touches his head tentatively. Had Edgar knocked him out? Most likely it seemed he hadn't been one for taking unnecessary risks.

When Charles wakens again, it's to someone shaking him. Several uniformed men surround them, and there's an air of boredom leaking from a dangerous looking man of authority, holding the captain's gaze. He speaks in a strange tongue, yet his meaning comes across clear to Charles. "You didn't even get a demonstration? _What are you thinking? _How foolish can you be! For all you know you could have been followed here. This is why you do not get to meet with him."

"I was not followed," the captain remarks certainly, and as soon as he says it Charles has a sharp sinking feeling, as the lead soldier's eyes seem to glitter. "Yes, I know, because I always take care of things…and you my friend have become something to take care of."

Charles gasps as the Captain collapses, and in reaction the entire tent strains against its moorings, boxes lift from their placings – his heart races as the leader looks him over. "Well, well…looks like you are gifted after all," the soldier states in perfectly accentuated English. Charles can't tear his gaze from the captain's body on the floor, from where a neat circular wound bleeds from his skull. "You…killed him," he notes faintly.

"But of course, he was of no further purpose. You should remember that boy," the soldier remarks coolly.

Charles however felt it just as strongly as if he had been the captain. The impact of that bullet against his own skull - only the swiftness of it, kept him on his feet. If it had been any slower he's certain he would have passed out from the pain. As it is, he can't keep himself from throwing up, all over the leader's shoes. Serves him right, he considers faintly as the world spins to a haze of murky grey.

* * *

**Updated 5th June 12. **

**Please review :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**An: Thanks to everyone for kudos, and reviews. To those whom I can't reply directly to - I hope some of your queries are answered in the upcoming parts, but this is an AU, and accepted movieverse and comicverse canon has a habit of flying out the window...  
**

**Part 1 has been amended slightly - and I recommend going back and re-reading that first, otherwise some of this part may not make sense...  
**

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Captives**

"Remind you of anywhere?" Erik muses looking round the small berth that they've managed to secure. Charles casts him a sharp look, before moving to slide the blinds carefully closed.

"This is a cell Charles, or could be," he prods, "they were just as ready to shoot you as not when we came onboard." The younger man finally turns with a frown, "You have just amply demonstrated your ability to rip a ship apart in front of them."

"I didn't ask for their help," he responds, and the air in the cabin seems to cool several degrees.

"No Erik you never _ask_," the younger man responds coolly, and Erik feels it as the telepath withdraws, coiling inwards. He feels bereft. It's a measure of his surprise that he doesn't block Charles's punch, anger blazes in the younger man's eyes, _"That's for trying to kill yourself!" _

Charles swings at him again but this time Erik catches him, cupping the back of the smaller man's neck, to feel the agitated thrum of his pulse. _Alive, he's alive. He's real. _Charles struggles but can't break his hold. "You've got muscles on _muscles_," he complains.

A bubble of laughter rises in Erik's throat, "Its good to see you to maus," he smiles, and releases him.

As the younger man turns to face him Erik takes a long moment to memorise his features, he's grown now, but is still satisfyingly smaller than himself. A perfect height, Charles's eyes if anything have grown more luminescent, more dazzling to look upon, and a scowl is marring that perfectly proportioned face. He reaches out and carefully runs his fingers through the long wavy locks of hair, feeling a lump in his throat, "You've let it grow…"

Charles swallows closing his eyes relieving memories as clear as though they had occurred only yesterday. An image of white cliffs – Dover - landing back on solid ground, and in his mind something had broken.

A connection.

Easy to look back now and see how two children had grown close enough for a link to form. Their parting had caused it to snap, and the effects had almost driven Charles mad with the backlash. The only way to shore up the pain had been to block out everything.

"I didn't know," Lehnsherr murmurs softly, Xavier opens his eyes to the soft caress against his cheek, witness to the self-recrimination in the taller man's features. "I didn't know Charles…I should never have left you." He doesn't speak there is little enough to say, because with the metal manipulator's return it means the nightmare is real.

"It's him isn't it?" Charles whispers, "Shaw is Schmidt and you're going after him…all this time you've been planning to kill him?" Erik closes his eyes leaning against the bulkhead, "You were ten years old Charles, what right did I have to drag you along with me?"

* * *

**Fifteen Years Earlier**

When Charles wakens again he finds he's in a small sterile white cell, lain upon an iron framed bed. "What on Earth…?" He mumbles to himself, and steadies himself on unstable legs. It takes him several moments to realise he is not alone, and regards the green eyed boy in quiet surprise. "Who are you?" He blurts out, and receives a dark venomous glower in response. "Stay away from me," the youth responds, "I'm not falling for it. I've had enough of Schmidt's lies."

"Who are you?" Charles asks, but the boy doesn't answer, and Charles senses only sharp distrust emanating from him. "Oh God," he breathes in remembrance, "They shot the captain." He closes his eyes and draws his knees upto his chest, trying to block out the awful memory. He had never been so frightened in his life shocked with the casualness in which the soldier had done it. It hadn't been necessary, they could have let him go…

"Are you going to be sick?" The boy asks suspiciously, Charles doesn't answer rocking back on his heels. "Hey…" Charles blinks as something is pressed in front of him. "Here – if you're going to be ill do it in here." A bucket, rather unsanity, and foul smelling, but certainly much better than the floor. The boy looks politely away strangely giving him his privacy in this. "You've gone even more pale," he remarks helpfully, and Charles is too miserable to do anything else but curl up into a ball. "If you're going to be horrible I don't want to talk to you," he announces, and proceeds to ignore him.

Erik frowns, warily watching the smaller boy, but it seems he has every intention of just falling back to sleep. He had witnessed the guards dragging him in, and tossing him down upon the bed, laughing as they looked down upon him. "Looks like you get a new playmate. Aren't you the lucky one?" That had just set his suspicions straight from the start that this boy was part of Schmidt's plans, but he seemed so young, and innocent just how could he be used against him?

Charles wakens to rough hands shaking him. "No Raven," he murmurs shifting to get more comfortable, "I'm tired." He's startled awake by a grumbling chatter till his mind focuses, and he manages to understand what is being spoken. "Look you can stay there for all I care, but any moment they are going to come and I thought you would want to be prepared."

It's the boy from his dreams, only it looks like he hasn't been dreaming. He runs a tired hand through his hair, and realises in quiet humour he's still in his blue striped pyjamas. Had it really only been three days? He was certain it couldn't have been longer, but he wasn't too certain how long he had been unconscious…

The sound of approaching footsteps herald the arrival of the _they _that his companion had remarked upon. The taller boy gives a soft hiss, and anger clouds his aura as a man wearing pristine white robes, and thin spindling glasses appears, flanked by two guards. "Erik my boy, I see you've been getting to know your new companion."

Erik…so his companion's name is Erik, that was useful to know. The man smiles at Charles, "My dear boy I have heard so much about you – not all of it encouraging I'll admit. Randolf was inclined to kill you for ruining his best shoes."

Randolf must be the soldier who had killed the captain. "He shot a man who hadn't done him any harm," Charles responds bitterly, and the man laughs. "Really, and how could you be certain of that my young friend hmm? You're a bit young to judge the affairs of men but I'm hoping to educate you a little on that." He gives a pleasant smile, but there's something slimy – like oil about his aura, and Charles reins himself tightly in.

"I admit I wasn't certain if you knew any German they said you had come from England," the man continues pleasantly. Charles keeps his expression calm, but inside his heart is racing. _His telepathy must be automatically translating. _"We didn't manage to catch your name, Randolf was a bit swift in his method of execution."

"Charles Francis," he states softly, and watches the man's expression carefully, "I take it you are Schmidt." A delighted smile fills the man's eyes, "But of course, I see my reputation precedes me."

Charles keeps his expression neutral. So he was in Germany, amongst the _enemy_. This was much worse than he thought. He needed to find some way of getting in touch with Raven…and soon…she must be going frantic. "Do you have any other family Charles?" Schmidt asks in a deceptively soft tone, and his first reaction is to go for the man's throat.

Beside him Erik makes a stangled sound, distracting Schmidt's attention before Charles can respond, "Ah, Erik my dear I am terribly sorry but you must understand it was necessary."

Necessary? Just what was necessary? Charles risks sending a tentative thread towards Erik's mind, and stumbles back from the sharp image of blood, a hazy figure being shot down. _Mutter. _Mother, Erik's mother?

He retreats slamming up his shields hard, struggling not to retch as the world spins before him. "Charles?" A strong hand grips his arm, Schmidt leaning over him with the false concern in his features. Erik standing neutrally to one side affecting unconcern. Charles swallows struggling to keep his composure pulling sharply away from the man. His only saving grace is his stomach is already empty, and he does not think this is man to tolerate what he perceives as weakness.

"I'm fine," he scowls, "Family? I have none that will miss me," he responds coolly, and recieves a considering glance from Schmidt. It was the answer he needed to hear, and was true enough – who was going to go looking for Charles Xavier, when he wasn't even missing?

"I'm sorry to hear that," the man states softly, and yet Charles senses the swift machinations of his mind, Schmidt's aura is calculating, and thrilled. _Liar._ "I understand you're likely be exhausted from your journey, but…I think you'll want to witness today's lesson." So saying the guards move to open the door. Charles doesn't miss the way that Erik tries to shrink back and make himself smaller whilst not giving any ground. He's **frightened**…no…he's **terrified**.

* * *

For the third time in as many days Charles is sick. He vomits this time all over Schmidt's plush carpet as he observes the man's attempts to get a reaction out of Erik. He doesn't quite understand what he is trying to achieve by holding the boy strapped down to a table and torturing him with metal.

As Erik screams something snaps in Charles, driven by the powerful sensation of achievement that Schmidt projects as something begins to happen. "Leave him alone!" The wall explodes around them – and suddenly Schmidt is turning to regard him - and Erik's eyes are wide.

* * *

**Please review - feedback is appreciated :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: here is the next part...thanks to everyone who has given their support to this so far...**

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Promises**

Charles Xavier telepath extraordinaire does not appreciate being touched. Moira had once reached out and clasped the telepath's shoulder in an intended gesture of understanding, and almost instantly regretted it. For a moment she had felt as though she were in terrible danger, and beneath the layers of thick clothing she had felt the man's shoulders tense. She hadn't reached out again, and taken careful notice since then seeing that despite his cheery and friendly demeanour Charles wasn't physically demonstrative with affection, nor did he invite it in turn.

So what was she supposed to make of the fact that 5 minutes after stumbling aboard ship, soaked through, and chilled to the bone by the icy waters of the Atlantic, Charles was leaning into the taller mutant like a plant starved for sunlight, and the metal manipulator had his arm locked tightly around the telepath's waist, glaring daggers at anyone daring to approach.

_Erik, its alright, _Charles projects sluggishly, but all that the taller man can see is the group of soldiers surrounding them, guns resting in their hands, and his grip on the younger man tightens protectively. _  
_

Moira can sense the growing tension in the air, and attempts to order the men down hearing an ominous creak of metal.

Raven pushes her way forwards, shoving through the barricade with supernatual strength, and faces the man holding her brother hostage. Her attention flickers to Charles, tucked close against the man's side, almost _cradled _in his arms, and he's making no attempt to pull away. Charles needs physical contact to ground himself from the mental plane, but avoids the touch of everyone but herself, since unanticipated touch can overwhelm him, and prolonged contact is rare. There's no one her brother trusts enough other than herself.

The strange mutant is every inch a predator - disarmingly handsome - gifted with the sleek honed body of an athletic Greek demi-God. "Let my brother go," she warns quietly shifting into a defensive stance, and meets fierce magnetic eyes. Well, two can play that game.

The man exhales as she takes on his form, becoming his mirror image, but is too well trained it seems to release his hold on her brother. "Raven?" he asks, and his surprise softens the hard lines of the man's face. She stares at him warily. How does he know her name? Why would Charles just tell an absolute stranger about her?

"Who are you?" she demands fiercely shifting into her natural blue form,and ignoring the sharp gasps from behind her familiar enough, but she cannot understand the widening smile on the metal manipulator's face. "If I told you, I fear you wouldn't believe me," he grins sharply. She frowns, "What have you done to Charles?" she growls, advancing menacingly.

_Raven, stop. I would never hurt him,_ comes a voice in her mind - familiar, and yet not Charles. _Not Charles._

No.

"Do you think me so imaginary now?" He teases and she swallows taking in his deep green eyes, and it's the hair - she's never seen him before with hair – at least not long like it is now from Charles's imagination, and how the lanky malnourished boy has grown...

"Erik?" She brings a hand to her mouth in astonished realisation, and for a moment gentle humour flares in his eyes. It transforms his features into something else entirely. "I thought he made you up," she gasps in mortification, and Erik smiles in quiet humour tilting his head, "I feel as though we already know each other," _You are the sister I never had. _

She swallows feeling very close to tears, "How are you doing that?" she whispers. Charles is the telepath - Erik is the _imaginary_ friend who can _manipulate metal..._

"A lingering gift," Erik murmurs distantly, looking down to where her brother is slumped against him. _Help me get him inside? _ He asks.

In the blink of an eye she resumes her blond human persona, and turns to the CIA agents indicating with a tilt of her head that all is well.

As Erik all but carries Charles into the cabin, Raven draws a lingering Moira away from the doors. "Just _who_ is he?" The agent demands as the shapeshifter takes her arm.

"An old friend," Raven responds softly, "A very _dear_ old friend."

* * *

Charles stirs at the soft touch against his cheek, Erik is calling his name. He blushes, he's fallen asleep? The metal manipulator is gazing softly at him, his tanned fingers resting against the bracelet on Charles's wrist. "You kept it," Erik murmurs, and Charles blush deepens, he looks away from his friend's piercing gaze. Erik leans close and gently clasps his chin, "I never stopped thinking of you not once." The metal manipulator admits softly, "I think you touched my soul. You kept me sane Charles, I don't know what I would have become if I never had met you."

He draws out a small silver case inside which is a carefully preserved envelope - still sealed - and scrawled on the cover in familiar childish scribe is:

_To Erik_

_from Charles X _

"You got it," Charles exhales in surprise.

"I've not read it yet...If I survived I was going to find you," Erik admits softly.

"Well now I guess you don't need to read it," Charles responds desperately only for his wrist to be pinned down before he can grab the yellowed paper. A smug expression fills the metal manipulator's features.

"Erik I was 10 when I wrote it - the grammar is going to be awful," Charles pleads.

"I'll survive it," Erik grins wickedly, and Charles swallows a mixture of relief and disappointment as the metal manipulator replaces the unread letter carefully back in the case which promptly seals shut.

The telepath covers his face, "I can see you're going to hold this over me."

"Yes," Erik grins smugly, "You're going to give up this endeavour with the CIA, and take Raven to a safe place."

Charles scowls "You think you have the only rights to him? Besides you need my help, he has a telepath of his own." Erik pins his wrists making his intent known, "You can protect me from a distance – I know you can. You don't have to be on the front line – and Raven – do you really want to drag her into this?"

_Are we really fighting over this now? _

_Erik_ regards him sternly, "I'm serious Charles…I don't know what I would do if something happened to you - either of you."

_I doubt that anywhere is far enough with this teleporter, _Charles responds. "Teleporter?" Erik questions, and is given the impression of a blurred red figure. _Moira saw him – one minute the general was with Shaw, the next he was over 100 miles away in the midst of a conference. I doubt anywhere would be far enough, in fact we would be much better sticking together. _

Erik growls softly, "I forgot how stubborn you are."

* * *

**Fifteen Years Earlier**

Charles groans, shifting away from the hands attempting to hold him down, and keep him steady. There's a quiet vaguely familiar voice murmuring in his ear. He tries to bat it aside, and something cold presses against his brow.

_Raven – its too early leave me alone, _he protests attempting to turn over when a faint gasp registers in his ear. She does leave him be, and its sometime before he stirs again. His head throbs, and he bites back a groan as sharp disjointed images come back to him.

"Petre hit you pretty hard – I've never seen Schmidt so angry," Erik murmurs, and Charles looks to see him crouched upon the floor, in the corner of the room. It registers then in his mind, that there is only one bed in this cramped cell. He blinks, "Why are you down there?"

Erik flushes a bright red, "You seemed to need the bed more than me." Charles runs a confused hand through his hair. "But its yours…isn't it?" Erik shrugs. "I prefer the floor anyway," _No straps there to hold me down. _

Charles blinks at this. "What was he doing to you?" He asks quietly. Erik shrugs, "Learning – or trying…he does it a lot, says its for my benefit," Quietly Charles slips to his feet, wincing as the room spins and Erik catches him, "You should lay down."

Charles swallows, he is _not_ being sick again.

"I think you scared them," Erik notes softly settling him back down against the soft surface. "At least the guards," _It was you – wasn't it? You blew up the wall. _

Charles flushes, "I didn't mean too I didn't mean any of this." He's close to tears, and he feels sharp shame at his weakness. He needs to stay strong, and figure a way out of this. "Its alright," Erik murmurs, enfolding him. "I thought I wasn't to be trusted?" Charles protests shoving him back. The elder boy quirks a self-conscious grin, "You're not, but I'm stuck with you aren't I?"

They are silent for several long moments, and Charles has to admit that he's felt calmer than he has for several long days. Normally he's the once comforting Raven, not the other way round.

"Who is she?" Erik asks softly, his voice murmuring against his ear, _Raven?_

Charles stiffens, heart pounding sharply in his chest, _How did he know?_

"You mentioned her…when you woke up," Erik explains softly, falling silent when the younger boy doesn't answer. Perhaps he needed to give something of himself first...afterall he had been more than a little hostile. "I've been here for about a year, sometimes it feels like forever," he quietly reveals, "Schmidt shot my mother, he _murdered_ her in front of me."

Charles closes his eyes, and the elder boy's memories slip into his mind. A woman…a woman with pleading brown eyes. Beautiful. She was so beautiful, and she looked at Erik like he was something precious - exactly how a mother should look upon her son.

_Alles is gut…Erik…alles is gut…_

"She's beautiful," he murmurs softly, and wonders if he's made a mistake when the other boy stiffens. _You…saw that? _Comes the tentative question. Swallowing Charles raises his head from Erik's shoulder, rubbing his tears way. _She loved you very much…I can see in her eyes, _he responds, _There's nothing you could have done to save her – Schmidt would have killed her anyway. _

_How do you know that? _Erik demands sharply.

_I've touched his mind…and its repulsive. He is like a serpent, saying one thing, yet his body betrays him, and his mind shrieks the truth, _Charles answers honestly, and knows it's the right thing to say when the elder boy exhales slowly.

Erik feels the first breath he's taken in a long time, not accompanied by a knot of guilt in his stomach. _I am going to kill him, one day, _Erik vows. Charles doesn't answer, but leans into the arms that tighten around him, _Raven is my sister. _

_Show me? _Erik asks softly, fingers carding lightly through his hair, and quietly Charles rests his head against his shoulder, pouring all his brilliant bright memoires of his sister at him including their first tempestuous meeting.

_She's incredible,_ Erik responds in quiet awe, wiping away tears of silent laughter.

Charles hums softly, and lays down, content with Erik beside him. The elder boy strokes his fingers through his hair. _You know…you can't let him find out about this Charles…about what you can really do, _Erik instructs softly. _No matter what happens…promise me you won't tell him. _

The younger boy sighs, but meets the earnest green eyes. _He won't stop Charles, if he knows…he would use you against everyone you love – against Raven._

_He already suspects with me speaking German so well, _Charles responds uneasily. Erik squeezes his hand hard,_Charles you are stronger than you look, I would never have guessed you were so powerful. Look at me could you guess what I can do?_

He watches curiously as Erik takes his hand in his own, holding it tight. _Promise me Charles, don't ever give up. _Staring into those green eyes he feels his breath catch, starting at the sharp pain that flashes across his palm. "Ow," he gasps reflexively jerking back – only Erik's grip tightens painfully on his own. _I will protect her, _Charles vows fiercely.

_I know Charles, and I will make sure he pays for all that he's done to us, _Erik returns, _We're going to get out of here. You'll see Raven again, and you'll grow up and become a...professor...or something - just like you want. _

Looking down Charles sees the red drops of blood seeping between their joined palms, he doesn't feel the pain now, not with Erik's fingers clasped tightly in his own.

_We're brothers now Charles,_ Erik explains releasing his grip. Along both their palms is a long thin slash, caused by a knifedge sliver of metal hovering between them. Quietly Charles reaches out, and it hovers in front of him, dancing slightly before darting out of his curious reach.

"Erik!" Charles grumbles shoving the elder boy back in retaliation for the hand roughing up his hair. An amused grin flickers in the older boy's eyes as he avoids the poorly timed kick.

* * *

**Please review...reviews are love... :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 - Coping**

_Erik – he's one of us! _Charles is all but shouting in his excitment, as he stares in rapture at the white robed scientist - Dr Henry McCoy.

Tearing his gaze from the sleek lines of the Blackbird Jet Erik regards the youthful scientist with new appraisal. He's young, _very_ young, and clearly highly intelligent to have been noticed by the CIA, perhaps McCoy's hyper-intelligence is his mutation?

_No...I think he's a natural genius, his mutation is physical, _Charles replies to Erik's musing question. A physical mutation? Dr McCoy appeared in all respects human...and...the agents were introducing him as they would any other successful colleague.

Charles words are lost in a strangled gasp as he's tugged off balance - and then Erik is there to catch him. His friend's green eyes blaze warningly into his own, _Wait Charles, _Erik commands softly, _some of us are hidden for a reason. _

_But they must know…_Charles falters uncertainly.

_Does the director seem aware of Dr McCoy's mutation? I'm certain he wouldn't have been able to have restrain himself from introducing us to another mutant,_ Erik continues, as Moira moves towards them. "Charles - are you alright?" She asks worriedly.

Charles closes his eyes, _Erik I almost- _

_Shh, don't dwell on it, act normal. We'll speak to the doctor later, _he soothes and sends a sharp glower towards MacTaggart. "I've got him," he all but snarls. She looks a little taken aback, until Raven smoothly intervenes, "It was a rather _long_ night."

"Yes, thank you for that Raven," Charles sighs, but Erik picks up on the wave of gratitude he sends towards her, _thank you. _

"Well I rather imagine you had a bit of catching up to do," the director interrupts jovially. Before Charles can respond to that Erik decides its time to regroup, "he won't admit it but he's feeling dizzy - is there somewhere he can rest?"

McTaggart frowns, regarding him with sharp mistrust, and Erik feels his hackles rising. Who does she think she is? He has nothing to prove to her. _Calm yourself Erik, _Charles smirks, _Its not that she's judging you, she's just wary of your influence on me. _ _  
_

The taller man snorts,_ as if anyone least of all me could sway your **impeccible** judgement.  
_

_Yes, well...why am I the one who is fainting? _Charles backpeddles in sudden realisation as Erik leans close. _Because you're the perfect height for carrying, _the taller man grins, sweeping an arm beneath Charles's legs - so sudden he has no choice but to reach out, and steady himself - arms wrapping automatically round the metal manipulator's neck as he's swung up and cradled in his arms like a new bride.

He blushes, and hides his face against Erik's neck, _I'm going to get you back for this if its the last thing I do. _Erik's amusement curls around the edges of his mind, _Go away, _Charles growls, _**I'm** the telepath. **Stop it**. _Erik laughs out loud then, ignoring Moira's sharp look and Charles swallows at the warm sensation of heat curling round his wrist from the bracelet.

_Stop me yourself - or haven't you been practising? _Erik teases.

"The living quarters are just this way," the director speaks up concern in his eyes, "In fact this place is set up - its got everything you should need here..." Erik stiffens slightly as his mind flashes reflexively back to a small prison cell, and this place though more fancy and on a larger scale was the same.

_It's not, _Charles argues, _put me down - I can walk. _

"Hush, stop arguing you're just wasting your energy," _don't play to their expectations - let them think us weaker than we are, _Erik admonishes moving to follow the director. Raven however hesitates glancing at the confused and abashed doctor.

"You're welcome to stay if you like," McCoy tentatively offers, "I can show you around..."

_You can catch up with us later,_ Erik sends, _and take note of the exits._

_Erik what do you think you are doing? She isn't a spy, _Charles growls. _No, but she could be, _Erik encourages, and Raven's eyes light up mischievously. A beaming smile fills her features as she latches onto McCoy's arm, "I would love to," she gushes, _don't worry so Charles - I'll be careful! _

Charles scowls at Erik, _You're corrupting her already! How? She **never** listens to me!_

"Perhaps **you** need to listen to her first Charles," Erik responds softly, and the younger man falls quiet.

The living area consists of a moderate lounge with pinball machines, and an aquarium..._why? _Erik wonders as he takes in the much more spartan bedrooms, and decides on a twin - depositing Charles on one of the beds carefully as Moira looks on. He turns to regard her with a pointed look and the agent blushes, before finally leaving them alone. With a flick of his wrist Erik shuts the door behind her.

"Why can't you be the weak one?" Charles instantly demands, springing up and kicking out at him.

A familiar enough move.

Erik ducks, and retaliates by shoving him down back against the mattress. Charles is quick, and swift - but no where near as strong, he's unable to move when the metal manipulator pins him down - holding his wrists, and straddling his waist. "You...that's not fair," Charles protests finally regaining his breath. "I think you're rather out of practice," Erik returns victoriously and sits up releasing his grip on the telepath's wrists. Charles frowns when he realises he still can't move - held down by all the fragments of metal he's wearing.

"Erik!" he hisses, fighting the metal manipulator's hold.

"Fair Charles? Do you think Schmidt will be fair?" Erik asks sternly, _Focus - fight me - you can do better than this. _

The smaller man bites his lip in frustration, and as he exhales a single droplet of red beads on his skin.

Blood.

Charles's blood.

Erik's blood.

In Schmidt's prison 15 years earlier Erik had held Charles in his arms, and drawn a long thin cut across both their palms. He had seen it once in a movie. An exchange of blood intended to tie them together as family, and prove to Charles in the only way Erik could that he wouldn't betray his most precious secret.

Brothers in blood. Blood brothers. By making Charles his brother as the elder Erik took on his protection, and safety - above his own.

With that act Erik freely gave everything he had left and everything he was to Charles. There was no doubt that the younger boy had saved Erik's soul - it already belonged to Charles. Erik gave everything, and curiously gained in turn. It was following the blood rite that he developed a telepathic awareness, an ability to shield his presence from others - very useful in his later reconnaisance activities. Charles had received control over metals, though on a much more minor scale to Erik's own.

Now, nothing and everything had changed.

Charles was here lain pinned beneath him just like after one of their wrestling matches, but now looking at him Erik felt his breath catch. Why had he never realised before? Just how perfectly - how flawlessly - Charles fit beneath him as though designed to be there...protected, cherished, yielding.

Perfect perfection the bob of that pale throat and pursing of those red lips, as Charles swallows.

With a sharp jolt Erik jerks backwards, and runs a hand over his face. _Just what is he thinking? _Cursing himself he forces his body back under control, and a neutral expression on his face. Charles isn't looking at him and doesn't even appear to have noticed Erik's distraction, still biting his lip in a familiar endearing expression.

_Stop it, stop thinking like that, _Erik chastises himself, and sends a sharp jolt of energy flickering through the bracelet on the telepath's arm. Charles gives a startled yelp, and those blue eyes fix on him in dawning anger.

_That's it Charles,_ he encourages, _Get mad - get **mad** at **me**..._ _  
_

* * *

This is what you get if you put an enraged telekinetic, and metal manipulator in a room and shake. The room is an absolute mess, and Charles is standing in the centre of it all fury blazing in his features, and he's absolutely radiant.

He's also completely out of it - and it will take him several minutes before he manages to regain his focus, which is all the time that Erik needs as he slips out of the room and seals the door.

Schmidt's file is ridiculously easy to find, and procure.

"Going so soon?" a soft voice calls out at the entranceway, and Erik turns to observe Charles regarding him with a contemplative expression in his blue eyes. "I have to say I'm surprised you stayed this long," the telepath notes, and that stings.

"I'm going to stop him," Erik states determinedly, and Charles shrugs taking a casual step forwards before rocking back on his heels, "You know Shaw's got friends, perhaps you could use some?"

It takes him a moment to parse the slightly off key inflection to the telepath's stance - a minor - very minor detail, and yet Erik knows Charles to perfection. He's blocked off mentally, and perhaps Erik deserves that.

Still...there's something...odd...

"Raven?" he asks feeling foolish as he does so.

Charles tilts his head, giving a sly grin before walking back towards the entrance, "I could stop you, but I won't. It's your choice Erik."

* * *

He walks and walks, and finds his feet returning again and again to the front of the building, as though he is walking an endless circular road. No matter which way he sets off he ends up at the same glass doors. It is as though magnetic north has suddenly realigned, and its driving him dizzy.

The first rays of the sun are peaking up over the horizon when Erik resignedly places his hand on the glass pane of the door, Schmidt's file clutched tightly in his hand.

He could go. He could leave. He _should_.

Like a bright light on the edges of his vision his attention is drawn to a familiar distinct metal signature. Charles's bracelet, moving through the corridors.

The bracelet...was the Charles who challenged him as he left wearing it? Erik hadn't noticed...and that made it more likely to have been the wily shapeshifter, though there was a small possibility that Charles could have removed it for those few moments.

Damn...Raven is good - _very_ good, especially at mimicking Charles, but then she's had all their childhood to perfect her imitation.

With a rueful smile Erik closes his eyes following the smaller man's movements through the base, and realises with a quirk of humour that it hasn't taken Charles long to get lost. His friend always did have a poor sense of direction, and first thing in the morning it takes him some time to come round, and refamiliarise himself with reality.

"Are you alright Charles?" Moira's familiar voice pounds through the metal Erik's listening against. Charles is standing outside the agent's bedroom.

A sharp sensation slices through Erik's gut, akin to being stabbed by a red hot blade. He's through the doors before he even realises what he's doing. It takes an almost collison with a too innocent looking blond shapeshifter to make him slow down. "Hey what's the rush?" she calls after him.

When Erik finally catches him, the reason Charles is up so early becomes clear as he picks up the director's voice outlining some plan for finding other mutants, involving the telepath who is sitting tiredly in a large black leather chair looking out the window.

"If there's a new race being discovered it should be by their own kind - no suits involved," Erik declares - his decision made. Whilst he could find Schmidt alone he is not going to leave Charles and Raven alone and mixed up with the CIA.

The director is not happy at Erik's intrusion, and points out that it will be Charles doing the work.

Charles is looking at him with a mullish expression in his features, _what made you deign to stay? _ Erik can't help the wry grin that breaks across his features, Charles always did know him better than he did himself.

_ I was persuaded in the value of having someone watch your back, _he shrugs revealling his encounter with Raven, and a brilliant grin breaks out on the younger man's features.

Erik can't help the smug grin as Charles sides with him, and the director reluctantly capitulates with a heavy sigh.

* * *

**Fifteen Years Earlier**

They converse at the end of their days in silence, and Erik finds blessed released from his aching pains as Charles finds out how to switch off the pain centres in his mind – even if only temporarily it eases some of the stress he's under. He slowly learns to block the pain himself, as Charles gets a better grasp on what he's doing.

Their dreams are shared with happy memories, and Erik finds himself grieving all over again for his mother and the family torn from him, but finds his pain eased as he realises that this is something Charles has never had, not really, other than Raven. Charles has never known his mother's love and this sparks a deeper anger in the elder boy. How could such a woman exist who didn't love her son – a boy as wonderful as Charles?

Erik shares in remembered games of postman, doctors, nurses, cowboys and indians with Raven in Charles's memories, so vivid that Erik almost feels he knows her for his own sister.

For a time, things simply pass and the dreaded fear of being collected each morning begins to slowly ebb into the familiarity of routine, as Schmidt seems content to watch Erik's progress in levitating items, and quietly compare it to Charles's haphazard control of his telekinesis. Erik knows he's getting more adept, he's calmer much calmer and that's due to Charles. His friend has given him a new purpose - a new focus, something to ensure that he survives, and isn't just another forgotten ghost to line these halls. He will never forget, he will live and remember all that happened here.

He will protect Charles.

Of course it can't last. Schmidt's contemplative analysis ends with a sharp snap back to reality when he declares that Erik's progressed enough to move onto attempting to fine tune his skills.

Erik's first task is to remotely shave Charles's head.

He refuses.

Schmidt's gaze darkens and there's a sense of something dangerous building in the air.

_It's alright Erik, _Charles swallows, _its going to happen...and I would rather it was you.  
_

Its this quiet assurance that allows Erik to step forwards.

_I would rather it was** you**. _

Still Erik mourns the loss of those fine long curls, resenting Schmidt further with every hair that falls.

_He wants me to resent you, _the younger boy notes head bowed as Erik reaches the back of his neck, _he's wary of our friendship._

Erik had been waiting for such a thing, and knows bitterly that Shaw did have a hold over him now, because he wouldn't let anything happen to Charles that he could prevent. Schmidt regretted killing Erik's mother so swiftly and ending the one leverage he had over his protege - now with Charles he had found another.

_Are you alright? _ Erik can't help asking when its done, ignoring Schmidt's delighted praise.

_I...its a little cool...cold...but I, _Charles falters, _how do I look?_

_You know - I think its the in look for this season,_ Erik responds decisively, and before either Schmidt or Charles can realise or stop him holds the blade perfectly over his own scalp. For the moment everything is perfect as Charles looks up at him, and everything else can go to hell. _  
_

Schmidt is outraged at Erik's defiance, and as a consequence Charles is dragged out of the room, and Erik is thrown back into their cell...alone.

As the hours pass into days, Erik grows desolate unable to focus on anything but the younger boy's parting cry echoing over and over in his mind. He ignores the food passed beneath the doors with simple disinterest saving his energy on focusing mentally. Surely Charles is alright...Schmidt wouldn't kill him...would he? Suddenly Erik is unsure, why hasn't Charles contacted him?

He loses count of the days, until finally _finally _Charles is returned, and with him a sharp dose of reality. The younger boy appears no better off than Erik - in fact he's barely coherent...

"Better say goodbye to your little friend, the doctor doesn't think he'll last the night," one of the guards rumbles with a laugh, and Erik stumbles to his feet as though waking from a dream, as Charles is shoved through the door and collapses to his knees.

The younger boy is so light...too light, and heat is pouring from his skin.

Fear drives Erik through the long hours as he tries to recall everything he knows about fever, and startlingly his mama's voice comes back to him, as though she is willing him to succeed. He will. He promised Charles, they are not going to die here in this cage, they will escape, and Schmidt will die.

_Temperature liebchen, get his temperature down, _and with the guidance of his mother's memory, and having done all he finally could Erik settles next to the younger boy. He's shivering still, beneath the blankets, and now - he's cold - too cold? Carefully he reaches out, and protectively pulls Charles into his arms, _"I'm here Charles, you're not alone. Come back to me..." _he projects desperately. The words spill unconsciously from Erik's lips as he begins to sing, a soft lullaby rocking the telepath in his arms. As he reaches the third verse Charles begins to stir, _Erik __I can't...where... _an abstract tumble of confused thoughts. He can't focus - Charles has drifted too far...

_No! _Erik exhales, continuing to cradle the smaller boy in his arms, he slashes Charles's palm once more, holding it in his own.

Pain.

Schmidt had at least taught him the value of it. _Focus on me Charles, come back, _he pleads holding him tight, and cuts his own hand deliberately focusing on the pain. After a while he becomes aware of Charles watching the slow swirl of their blood as it mixes together. "You're not alone Charles, not anymore," Erik soothes. "See?" he whispers pressing his hand over the younger boy's heart. "You're not alone, come back to me Charles," _we'll get out of here - soon - I promise, _Erik vows.

"Erik," Charles moans softly, blue eyes shattering open and they are the most beautiful thing Erik has ever seen - sky blue, a reminder of freedom. They are going to get out of here. He will ensure it, Schmidt has taken enough from them - from Erik, he's not having Charles. He blinks at the soft touch against his scalp - and almost jumps at the tickling sensation. He'd almost forgotten, but Charles is looking at him in confusion, "Why did you do it?" he asks, "Your hair Erik..?"

Calmly Erik captures the younger boy's hand, willing him to understand. "I wanted to," he states softly, "No matter what he does he can't touch you in here," he explains pressing his palm to Charles's heart, "Remember that."

"I will Erik," Charles answers softly, "I won't forget."

* * *

**Please review :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Escape**

"You can't be serious!" Erik growls regarding the giant golf ball contraption with a fierce anger, _You're not going in there Charles! _The telepath ignores his outburst, but a frown curls the side of his lips. McCoy holds up his hands placatingly, "Everything has been checked, and double checked - there's very small risk-"**  
**

"How can you say that?" Erik demands turning to regard the scientist fiercely, "Small risk? How do you calculate that when no one has ever tested it?" He's a second away from throttling the doctor, mutant or not when Charles stands, "Of course I trust you Hank, when can we go ahead?" his voice is jarringly calm - discordant with the rage that the metal manipulator is feeling.

_No Charles, you are not doing this! _Erik growls unhappily, and makes sure that the scientist remains acutely aware of his displeasure as he tightens the man's belt. McCoy inhales sharply. Charles scowls, "Stop it Erik," _Hank isn't Schmidt, he genuinely wants to help find others of our kind, as do I - as I thought you did! _

So saying Charles stalks out, deliberately bumping into the taller man's shoulder as he passes, Hank slinks round Erik and follows him. If Erik's power had been to fire lasers from his eyes her brother would be incinerated by the depth of the glower focused on his back. Still Raven can't help but stifle an amused grin knowing full well that anyone else shoving into the metal manipulator like that would have gone flying through the nearest window.

She watches as the anger dies from his eyes, and he watches her brother and Hank walk towards the dome. "You know he wants you there," she notes softly. Erik turns to face her, and suddenly it seems pointless holding on to all his anger. "Does he? He seems perfectly capable on his own."

"Hmm, capable? Quite," she gives a dashing grin and is suddenly Charles once more. Her likeness is uncanny, and Erik can't help swallowing as she steps forwards into his personal space, "but he _needs _you Erik." She whispers softly standing up on the tips of her toes, and oh...she's even got Charles height right down.

He catches her wrists.

She meets his gaze unflinchingly. "Do you know how many times I had to listen to him talk about how wonderful you were? It was easier to believe you were imaginary...because then I wouldn't have already lost him," She sighs wistfully stepping down. He lets her go, yet her words catch in his mind, "Lost him?"

A familiar warm knowing grin lights her features, "Oh...I'm sure you'll figure it out handsome. Now get your brooding ass over there."

* * *

Charles blinks as they enter the dome, its deceptively larger inside. "Are you sure I can't shave your head?" Hank asks and gives a confused look when the telepath all but yanks the helmet from his grasp.

"No!"he growls and he's not _shaking_ when the device lifts out of his hands, and hovers neatly in the air. Charles swallows looking up at Erik whose deep green eyes glow with shared understanding.

"You are not shaving his head," the metal manipulator announces firmly to the scientist. _I'm quite fond of those curls,_ he projects to telepath exhales and gives him a mental shove, "Don't spoil this for me Erik."

"I know a lab rat when I see one," Erik states softly, _Are you sure you want to do this? _

_We can't do this on our own, _the younger man answers looking down as the taller man's hand closes over his own. _There's always another way, _Erik responds quietly. _What? Its not like we can look under 'mutant' in the phone book, _Charles returns, and reaches for the helmet fighting the metal manipulator's hold on the wires.

Charles is determined to do this.

Erik can pull the plug the instant anything goes wrong.

The metal manipulator lets go of the helmet, and the sudden lack of resistance catches Charles off. He stumbles catching himself on the rail, and Erik's smirks. _Very funny, _Charles returns keeping a wary eye on the taller man as he sets the helmet over his head. The wires begin to hum as Hank charges the machine, and Erik's head whips round as he takes in the amount of power being used. His attention shifts instantly back to the telepath as Charles cries out, and Erik grips the rail a moment from leaping forwards and yanking the smaller man to him.

Then he realises that Charles is laughing.

Its ectasy, so many minds...so many lives...such power...its dizzying.

Erik's eyes widen every nerve on edge, prepared at any moment to intervene, but for the look of sheer delight in the younger man's eyes. Charles got lost once...what is this doing to him? What if he can't find his way back?

The lights flicker, and that's enough.

_Enough_.

"Switch it off," he demands to the scientist, and reaches out mentally calling the telepath back.

Charles falls catching himself against the rail. _Too far._ With a wave of his hand the bar melts, and Erik tears through it, pulling the smaller man into his arms. "Come back to me Charles," he commands urgently.

Such power is equally draining when its gone. The helmet flies off his head, as Erik pulls him into his arms a familiar grounding warmth. _Come back to me Charles, _that call, that voice...Charles has never been able to ignore its pull. He shudders struggling to come back, to refocus on the now.

_I'm alright, Erik its...you have to see it... _Charles projects somewhat drunkenly after a moment.

_I saw, its too powerful - too dangerous, _Erik responds firmly. _  
_

"Its worked!" Hank announces in delight oblivious to the metal manipulator's anger, "Its worked!"

Erik closes his eyes fighting down the sharp urge to shatter Cerebro into its component parts.

_No Erik,_ Charles warns struggling to sit up. The telepath is pale, barely coordinated in his motions, and its almost too easy for the metal manipulator to scoop him up over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. _Erik put me down! _Charles protests.

Hank falls silent mouth agape as he watches Erik manhandle the young professor, and carry him out through the door which slides obediently open before the metal manipulator.

Raven covers her amusement with a sharp cough, and Hank is soon leaning over her in concern.

Erik ignores the startled looks from the wandering agents they pass in the corridors, carrying Charles in steady unbroken strides all the way back to their rooms. Once inside the locks snap shut, and sets he sets his friend down on the couch.

"Never again Charles," Erik orders anxiously closing his eyes and running a stressed hand through his hair, "Its too powerful."

Charles doesn't answer. The younger man's eyes are drifting closed. Erik pours a glass of water, and presses it to his lips, _"Drink," _he commands firmly and those beautiful blue eyes snap open fixing on him in mild aggravation. After a moment Charles takes it from him determinedly, and only when its empty does Erik take it from him, and tug him up to his feet.

"What are you doing?" the smaller man asks quietly leaning against him as Erik tugs his shirt off. The taller man frowns, "I am seeing to an idiotic telepath who is now crashing because he let himself be used as brainfodder in some infernal machine."

"I thought you liked machines," Charles mumbles against his shoulder, _and I am not **crashing**. _Erik snorts, guiding the younger man down against the bed. "Lay down," he commands, and with a soft grumble Charles does so. Erik follows him and settles his hands against the smaller man's shoulders and sighs, _I love machines - machines filled with cogs, and moving parts. Cerebro is not a machine - its...a...contraption. _

"Its a **computer** - Hank designed and built it himself," Charles yawns mind slowing and body melting under Erik's kneading hands. _Did you ever think of becoming a professional masseur? _He can't help asking, and feels the taller man's amusement as the edges of their minds begin to blur. Its always been this way between them when they are close - in physical contact - Charles never could tell where he began, and Erik ended.

"I still think Hank's genius is due to him being a mutant," Erik muses, and Charles sighs they've been through this before. Often. Erik had a disturbing notion that humans were 'less evolved' and mutants the superior race, and Hank's genius level intelligence he now percieved as a point towards this.

Charles knew otherwise, but his thoughts are blurring, and he can't keep his focus enough to argue, not now - and Erik knows it. Damn him. The metal manipulator is humming in a soft pleasant tone - a quiet assuring buzzing sound that holds a vaguely familiar tune.

Erik smiles softly as Charles relaxes under his hands, and continues to massage the smaller man's shoulders, moving with slow precision down the smaller man's back as Charles had often done for Erik in the past to ease his pain from Schmidt's electric shock treatments. As children they were familiar enough with the nakedness of each others bodies through shared washing sessions which consisted of being hosed down with water. Ice cold water. Schmidt had believed the shock to be a toughening experience._  
_

Charles always had elfin features and porcelain pale skin. It seems he's not outgrown his lack of tolerance for the cold, wearing layers of geekish style clothing to keep warm. Charles's wardrobe is going to have to change, because Erik won't tolerate being kept from this every day - beneath the layers of oxfordian scholarly jumpers the telepath's body is as honed as his own.

They've both learned the hard way not to just rely on their gifts, and Charles it seems has taken Erik's early lessons to heart. As his friend falls asleep Erik feels the familiar anchor sing softly in his mind. Its possible that the telepath isn't really conscious of what he's doing…or maybe it's a lingering remnant from their childhood…whichever it is Erik doesn't mind the constant awareness that his friend is close by. It calms him, more than he thought possible, and something he missed more than he realised.

His attention drifts to the smaller man's hands, and he carefully takes each one treasuring the fine skilled fingers, so perfectly proportioned, and achingly perfect in his own. Down to Charles's slim elegant wrists - and his right still encircled in the bracelet Erik made for him so long ago.

At first glance its a simple band of cheap base metals, a mix of iron some silver, and various alloys. Its of little obvious monetary value.

Each component is a memory - a snatched keepsake. The zinc and copper alloy – brass - are shavings from a doorbell of the small bakery shop in Alsace - the woman there had been kind to Charles. The heavier iron fractions are slivers from Logan's knife, and Victor's gun - weapons which had saved their lives. There is a snatching of silver from the fancy candlesticks that Charles had admired in the church at Bordeaux.

The bracelet is a talisman - a good luck charm, a record of their journey into freedom together. A **diary** that Erik hasn't updated for far too long...

* * *

**Fifteen Years Earlier**

It had been another long exhausting day, and Erik was the first to be dropped back to their room, teetering on his feet as he moves to automatically wrap his wrists, and stem the bleeding before Charles is returned. It is best if Erik's friend doesn't see just how deep Schmidt is going now. Erik has a sickening feeling that one day the man isn't going to stop.

Charles's nightmares have been getting worse as the front line of the war begins to steady move towards them, the battles fought each day, and the effort to block out the horrendous scenes are telling on him. Erik finds he's developed a strange ability to shield Charles's mind and help ease the strain on the younger boy, but even Erik can see that Schmidt is getting suspicious. The doctor's eyes watch Charles with a growing obessive light and every day that passes becomes a victory in letting nothing slip.

Erik is making plans. He knows that Schmidt won't wait much longer before moving them. The doctor is not going to let his reseach be torn apart by a war ground, and the front is coming to them. The allies are pressing forwards. Charles dreams, and the growing aglommeration of metal - the movement of tanks, and soldiers bristling with weapons that Erik can sense is proof of that.

Schmidt doesn't get time to act out on his plan - and neither does Erik.

Time has run out quite suddenly.

Erik grips the side of the basin for support as the ground rocks violently. A bomb. The battle is coming now.

There is no more time.

He regards the door of the cell in fierce desperation, and is overwhelmed by a sudden vision of blue eyes. Charles. Where is he? Erik promised to protect him - and he's stuck in this room whilst outside everything is torn apart. He can't move the door, its too heavy - he's too drained from Schmidt's earlier experiments. Erik sinks to his knees with tears stinging his eyes and blood pooling down his arms from the dirty makeshift bandages.

_Promise me you won't give up. _

He had made Charles promise. Could Erik do any less?

With renewed determination he fixes his attention on the door. _There's always another way, think round it...think..._

Hinges - the hinges of course. As they melt from the frame it seems frighteningly easy to walk outside.

The upper building is devastated, crumbling rubble pool around Erik's feet, as he scrambles through the haze of dust and smoke.

Schmidt's office is abandoned, just a single coin resting precariously on a desk.

The coin that killed his mother.

For a long moment Erik can only stare at the Nazi symbols, dully picking up the coin.

_Erik..?_

Charles. His mind snaps back to the present, and the coin slips forgotten through his fingers as he races into the maze of dust.

_I'm coming Charles, hold on - where are you? _

Terror spears him forwards when he receives no answer, and it seems years before he reaches the smaller boy who is still strapped down to one of the tables which has fortuitously fallen over, shielding Charles from most of the debris. For a long terrifying moment the young metal manipulator fears he's already too late, then Charles groans his blue eyes shattering open.

Erik tears open the straps, and lifts the smaller boy up into his arms, setting him back on his feet as they reach the shattered wall.

With Charles's hand tightly gripping his own they take their first tentative steps beyond.

Its smoky, dusty and pitch black around them. In front of them is a vast forest wilderness.

Erik grins, a feral wild smile, and clutches Charles battered hand tighter.

Free.

They've made it.

They are finally free.

* * *

**Please review :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Two updates in one week? You can thank the amazing Rikka ;)  
**

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Home**

Charles wakens to a delightful warmth – Erik pressed protectively around him - body and mind. He yawns sleepily, and curls closer, burying his head deeper into the taller man's shoulder. Long fingers brush slowly through his hair, and the arm wrapped around his chest tightens possessively. Erik is humming a very familiar song.

"I know that song..." Charles realises as he slowly wakens, his blue eyes blinking widely. "You should do," Erik agrees giving nothing away though his lips quirk up.

It takes the telepath a moment to realise there is a new addition upon his left wrist - a match to the bracelet on his right. "I've been updating my diary," Erik smiles softly, lips pressing against his hair. Charles laughs in delight, and then attacks the taller man with a pillow.

They both end up tumbling to the floor, laughter in Erik's eyes, and Charles gasping for breath. The smaller man almost made it to the door, realising belatedly it was locked – and then the metal manipulator was wrestling him down. It ended with the younger man firmly pinned beneath Erik, who grinned down at him. Charles couldn't stop laughing, slowly quietening as he observed the flush in the metal manipulator's features.

_When I saw your house…and someone explained about the fire…I thought I had lost you,_ Erik reveals sombrely. Seeing his friend's deep unspoken grief and sense of guilt Charles reaches up to brush his tears away, "You never lost me," _you never will._

The kiss is natural - instinctive - and so easy to deepen into something further.

* * *

**Fifteen Years Earlier**

The surrealness does not fade.

Erik is certain he's caught in some strange dream.

It doesn't matter where they are. It doesn't matter where they are going. With Charles by his side nothing could be more perfect.

Reality can go to hell. **  
**

Of course it can't last.

They have a day.

The most perfect day of Erik's life. He has Charles by his side and they are free. He makes a small fire, and they manage to catch a small rabbit at which the younger boy is surprisingly adept at skinning. "My father used to take me hunting," Charles explains quietly, "Before the war..." Erik has a vision of a tall, lithe regal man with kindly blue eyes. Brian Xavier. An absent father.

The smoke from their fire has drawn their pursuers.

As intended.

Two feral gruff looking men. One bearing knives as weapons, the other guns.

Soldiers...no...they bear no proud uniforms. Runaways? Possibly...

"See I told you there was someone here," the gun bearing man notes, the other just grunts and sits back. Examining the ground intently. Erik grips Charles tight clamping a hand over the smaller boy's mouth from their treebound position.

_Erik - they are like us! _Charles projects excitedly. Erik glances at him, and has a vision of _bone claws? _

He stills at the sudden silence.

"Well well...what have we here?" The gun-toting one notes, and Erik's heart sinks as he sees that they have been discovered. Both men are looking up at them. "Leave them be Victor they're just kids," the knife wielding one commands. Victor gives a menacing smirk, "There are no innocents in this war brother."

Victor stalks the bottom of their tree and Erik frowns down at him stonily. "Come on down, we only want to play," Victor teases. Erik gathers his metal projectiles as the man begins to climb. "No you don't!" Charles yells back, "Leave us alone!" There is fire shinning in the young telepath's eyes, and the knife wielding one clasps Victor's arm, "I said leave them be."

The two men stare at one another, and Erik grips Charles tighter to prevent him falling.

"They've come straight from that hell hole - they must know something!" Victor grumbles finally. The other sighs, "Come on down we won't hurt you."

Erik looks at Charles who tilts his head, "They are looking for Schmidt...they are on a mission...got caught and executed in front of a firing squad...and..."

Silence.

Both men are staring at them in astonishment - more specifically at Charles. "How do you know that?" Victor demands. "Why do you carry guns? _You_ don't need them!" Charles snaps back, and Erik knows the moment that the men realise that they are different - because Charles didn't just shout that out loud.

"What are you..?" Victor growls, "You're working for Schmidt aren't you?" He stops when his own favourite gun turns on him - hovering in mid air in front of his face. Logan faces similar betrayal from his treasured knives. The tension breaks with Logan's barking laugh. He's not seen a look like that on his brother's face in a hundred years. Victor's eyes soften in understanding, "I always thought we couldn't be the only ones," he notes gruffly.

They form a tentative truce.

They spend the next several days avoiding groups of mercenaries and soldiers alike as they make their way back round towards France. Erik is adamant that they can travel alone, but as Logan wisely questions, how does he "think he's going to get the little rugrat (Charles) back to England if something happens to himself?"

Logan and Victor having lost Schmidt's trail are avoiding both allies and fleeing enemies alike. Their deaths have been reported back and it will be most unfortunate if they are recognised - alive. Victor is already planning his new alias.

Charles is fascinated by Victor and Logan alike, but seems to form a strange bond with the firey Sabretooth. Erik is watchful of Logan's brother, aware there is a wild untamable predator in the man. Logan is amused at his brother's gentleness with Charles as he teaches him to make knots, and patiently shows him again and again.

Logan watches Erik carefully, and Erik knows he is being watched. "He's not worth it-" Logan notes quietly to Erik one evening on the edge of their camp as he watches Charles sleep,"Schmidt - you'll chase him, and lose more than you realise."

Erik had shrugged knowingly, "I have no choice, not if they're to be safe." Logan simply huffs, "I think he's tougher than he looks." Erik shakes his head, "I won't tear them apart, and...she..." he breaks off but Logan suddenly understands, "Ah, there's another one? Hmm..." and then claps Erik on the shoulder before walking away into the shadows.

The camp fire is all but extinguished when Charles comes awake with a startled cry of alarm - Erik's hand clamps over his mouth a moment later - and - doesn't see the man - Logan's blade flies through the air catching the soldier in the eyes. Charles gasps falling back. Erik hauls him up to his feet. "Come on liebchen," he mutters his heart already begining to race with adrenaline.

From some unconscious signal the smaller boy is kept between them as Logan and Erik move back to back facing their attackers. From the woods comes a ferocious growl, and its clear Victor is deflecting more traffic coming their way.

Erik almost pities them.

But even they can't go on forever, and there are just so many and he's exhausted - he can see he's going to be too late as the knife reaches for his throat.

The fierce sharp roar causes the soldier to flinch back, and blink at the small blue eyed boy in surprise.

Moments later the soldier collapses, and with him everyone left standing in the clearing.

"That's enough," Charles gasps and Erik catches him, looking round with wide eyes. He knew Charles was powerful...but to just take everyone out like that? "They're just asleep," Charles murmurs.

Victor wants to slit all their throats. Logan won't let him.

Charles is sick again that night, and notes sadly to Erik crouched beside him that he understands. Erik blinks in confusion, and so Charles explains further, "You're leaving aren't you?" Quietly Erik takes the smaller boy's hand in his own, "We're brothers Charles, always remember that, but...this is something I have to do," he explains.

"I understand you need to find them if they're still...here - your family," Charles swallows, and Erik hands him the mug of water keeping him steady. Family. Erik knew his family - his mother and father and were gone. His uncles? His grandparents...he doubted any of them lived, but he owed them to find out. Even though his...heart...his family was tied up in this small boy with blue eyes smiling sadly back at him. "Perhaps...and you need to return to Raven," Erik states softly. Speaking her name makes her seem more real somehow.

Charles smile deepens, "I'll have so much to tell her - she'll never believe me about you Erik!" Charles stands up, steadier now, and looks at him intently, "and when you've found them all, you can come home right? I can't wait for you to meet her!"

Erik smiles sadly, "Of course Charles, when I've found them all..."

* * *

When the ceasefire comes and the war officially ends Charles is attending his father's funeral.

At the same time Erik is standing knee deep in blood having killed his first Nazi.

It is over a year later when Erik finally makes it to England and takes a rare break from his quest. His side trip takes him to the heart of the countryside, where he discovers a burnt out mansion. Its inhabitants apparently having perished in the blaze. Despairs fills him and his heart hardens into stone.

Erik has nothing left to lose his life is already over. He resolves then to take down Schmidt no matter the cost.

* * *

**Reviews are very much appreciated and feed the muse... :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 - Phoenix**

**Present  
**

When Raven bursts through the doors uninvited a couple of hours later she flushes to her natural blue form in utter surprise at seeing the metal manipulator wrapped possessively around her brother's smaller frame. Charles is deeply asleep, but Erik's eyes sneak open, and he gives her a wicked smirk. She swallows watching the metal marbles (which she had not even seen coming towards her) return to the metal manipulator's palm.

She retreats and slams the door shut behind her, returning a moment later. "You'd better treat him well understand - I'll be watching you!" She warns softly. Charles remains blissfully asleep curled against him and Raven blinks when her brother stirs restlessly murmuring her name. Erik runs his fingers through her brother's hair, and watching him Raven's anger fades into quiet understanding.

_Sleep Liebling all is well,_ Erik gently commands unable to tear his gaze from the younger man's relaxed features. Once...in the longest hours of Erik's life he had believed that the younger man was gone lost to him, claimed by fire - something which no matter how hard Erik raged against, he could do nothing against in return. He had never felt so helpless.

Charles's soft even breaths are tickling Erik's chest, and the metal manipulator's arm is tingling with a growing numbness beneath the younger man's head, but both are very dear reminders that Charles is alive. He is real. Since that first morning of suspicion so long ago Erik has always had trouble tearing his gaze away from the younger man. It is habit now to carefully catalogue the changes that have taken place in his friend. Like himself Charles's body is a weapon, lean and muscled, and oh so perfectly tight...a perfect fit beneath him. Perfection. Carefully shifting Erik frees his trapped arm and settles the younger man down against the soft surface.

Charles grumbles at the sudden loss of warmth, slowly waking to the butterfly kisses pressed along his collar bone, and moving up to trace the line of his jaw. Half asleep he bats at the insect, only to be met with a deep rumble of laughter. He blinks in confusion staring at the blurred figure leaning over him before his mind reconnects with reality, and processes the warm familiar mental presence enfolding his mind.

"Erik?" he asks and is startled at the rough cracked whisper that emerges from his throat. The metal manipulator laughs again, low and amused, and those bright green eyes are roaming over Charles's body as though Erik is about to devour him for breakfast. He flushes. "Good morning meine Schatz," Erik's wicked grin widens as he captures the younger man's wrists, pinning them in one hand above his head.

Charles gasps left breathless as the taller man presses down against him, deliciously trapping him as those sensuous lips work open his mouth, and leave him shuddering. Then Erik pulls back, and runs a hand through his hair as he gets his own breathing back under control, "Breakfast? You're right that sounds a good idea."

He ducks the first pillow, and makes it to the bathroom door laughing as Charles tears after him - second pillow in hand. Erik takes control of the younger man's wrists - slowing him enough to pluck the pillow out of his grasp, and throw it back into the bedroom. Blinking Charles has by now realised that he did not naturally stumble, and glowers up at the taller man. "Just where I want you," the metal manipulator smirks in his deep gravely tone, pressing the now flustered telepath back against the tiled wall. "You...you..." Charles's protests are cut off into a low groan. A sound that Erik finds he likes very much.

He is making breakfast when the shapeshifter next comes upon him. Moira looks up from her morning paper to greet Raven, nodding with bemusement to Erik. "Meet our maestro over there," the agent grins, "seems metal moving isn't his only talent." Erik flashes a wide sharks grin at her which dissipates when Charles enters the room with a small yawn on his lips, and runs a hand tiredly through his hair. He blinks taking in the domestic scene still evidently half sleep from the black poloneck jumper he has on - its too long sleeves pooling adorably round his elbows.

Moira stares, and Raven smirks at the agent's surprise. It was hard to see beneath the layers of clothing her brother normally wore, but underneath it all Charles was as toned and muscled as Erik's obvious hard lines. The metal manipulator too clearly liked the view from the way his gaze lingers. _I see you like my clothes, _Erik smirks fighting the urge (because of Moira's too knowing gaze), to simply kiss him. _Its my jumper, _Charles sends back drowsily and Erik grins, _if you like. _He looks to where Raven is eyeing Charles speculatively, and Erik can see he is going to have a willing accomplice in redesigning the telepath's wardrobe.

There is a loud clatter from the other end of the table, and everyone turns to look at Moira. She clears her throat after an awkward silence, "Well I'll leave you to it then," she announces dryly swallowing the last dregs of her cup before shoving back her chair and walking out the room.

"You need to be more careful," Raven rebukes, "Though I think you're doing things the wrong way round Erik, you're supposed to do the wooing part first," Raven continues grinning slyly at Erik, and clearly enjoying the deepening flush in her brother's cheeks. "Raven!" he groans, and Erik chuckles, letting his hands rest on Charles's shoulders as he guides the smaller man to a chair.

Her brother looks a bit overwhelmed by the mountain of food in front of them. _You need to eat liebchens,_ the metal manipulator sends softly to them both. _When did you learn to cook? _Charles asks staring at the feast. Erik smiles wickedly, _wherever I travelled I would pick up something. _ Charles swallows, as the metal manipulator sets various trays down in front of him, observing with wide eyes the sheer amount that is being stuffed on their plates by various flying metal implements. Raven watches in wide eyed bemusement.

* * *

**Fifteen Years Earlier**

The fire has completely gutted the mansion, leaving nothing behind but a skeletal stone shell. It is barely 6 months following Brian Xavier's death, and the man now speaking with his mother is from the intelligence service. A man named Kurt Marko who previously worked with Charles's father. He is saying that Brian's death was no accident, and the fire was meant to be a warning to Kurt to give up his research.

Looking to her children huddled together against the cold Sharon is quick to agree that its best if they just disappear. Their deaths can easily be reported back, and seeing the complete devastation of the building it is difficult to understand how any of them did get out.

Easy to see that they weren't meant to.

* * *

Wrapped in blankets from the cold, Raven can only stare in silent disbelief at the ruin as she grips Charles's hand tightly in her own, worrying over Charles's lethargic state. She knows he did something...something like when he put her to sleep to get them all out of the burning building. It frightens her to realise that if he wanted no one could stop him. Not even herself.

Sharon and Kurt are still quietly talking as Charles shrugs off the blankets and gets to his feet. "What are you doing?" she demands following after him. "We're going away," Charles explains, digging in his pockets for the usual boy scout scraps he carries around. He pulls out a small scrap of paper, and a half chewed pencil. "Away?" she asks in surprise following him as he makes his way unnoticed towards the small bricked up well. One of the bricks was hollow - their hidden post box. When they were younger they used to leave small handwritten notes for each other, safely tucked inside.

There's nothing there now, but Charles is quietly scribbling on his paper, "Away?" she asks again. He nods, "Yes - this very night. They're going to say we died." She blinks in surprise, "What - why? Where are we going?" He doesn't answer a moment, and she leans down to tear the paper from his grasp. "Raven!" he gasps in surprise, leaping to his feet. She's already read it by then, "Erik? _Erik?_" she holds it aloft above his head in sudden anger, _"We've _been over this Charles. Erik doesn't exist."

She folds her hand over his own, "Let it go Charles."

Had it really all just been a dream? Some days it seemed so, a blur of confusion in a perfect Alice in Wonderland adventure. Charles looks down at the bracelet on his wrist. Could he have made it himself? Was he really so delusional? It had felt so real...so vivid...and now just an echo - a lingering ghost of reality. Erik was he created by Charle's own mind? Charles was able to alter people's perception and change their memories. He had done so with mother, creating for her the pefect daughter in Raven. Was he now deluding himself?

Some days it seemed impossible, Erik was just too perfect to strong his voice...could Charles really have made all that up? Everything had seemed so clear once, but now he was no longer certain. He remembered Dover's gleaming white cliffs standing so strong, and Logan's grip on his hand as he fell to his knees, but beyond that...was pain. He had tried to show Raven, show her just how real Erik was to push past the pain and look at the memories of their journey into freedom...but she did not believe the other boy was real, and without showing her the darkness of his captivity Charles was not certain how to convince her otherwise. As the days passed even the other boys form was beginning to fade, and Charles was terrified he would forget.

Raven even pointed out that Logan may just have been a projection from Charles's mind to help him feel safe. Even the bracelet on Charles's wrist was not proof of Erik's existence. Not really. Afterall, Charles had demonstrated some ability in calling metal to his will on his return. "Charles I don't want to lose you," she swallows softly. He knew Raven was frightened. She thought he was losing himself losing his mind, of his power, and frightened of losing him again. She was frightened of the half seen things he could not help projecting in nightmare, of things he could not show her. Things he had sworn to protect her from.

"You won't," he assures softly, "You won't lose me Raven."

He lets her draw him away from the well, the small scrawled letter floating behind them as though captured by the wind.

* * *

The cold ruin loomed before him in powerful gloating victory.

Erik had failed.

He had watched Charles's tears as first Victor stalked away after Logan refused to let him kill the mercenaries who would have slit all their throats in the night. Erik had felt a sharp kinship with Victor, and Logan's gaze had burned with a too knowing light as they fixed upon him. "He'll be back - always turns up like a bad penny," Logan had grumbled awkwardly patting Charles's shoulder.

Victor didn't return.

Then it had been Erik standing alone on the dock, watching the boat carrying Charles (entirely too small as he stood beside Logan), grow smaller and smaller, the white cliffs of England's shores seeming to judge Erik in silent disproval.

Logan had been right. Erik had let Charles go - too intent on his own revenge, and now...he was gone. Erik would never see him again, and poor poor Raven - so young. He would never get to meet her now.

Perhaps it was a mercy.

Schmidt would never get his hands on Charles again or learn just how much power he had once had within his grasp.

With a startled aching gasp Erik jerks awake. He's resting beneath a makeshift shelter in overgrown gardens. In front of him looms the blackened ruin of the once luxurious mansion. He hadn't been able to walk away from the proof that Charles was real. He had existed, and the reason he was had been taken from Erik. He wipes the tears from his eyes.

What kind of fire could burn its way through such solid stone?

The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as ghostly childlike laughter echoes in his ears. A delighted joyful laugh. His memory playing tricks? Charles had shared so many memories with Erik - so easily and openly that they felt like his own. There - that tree, Raven had climbed to the very top, and once showered Charles with badly aimed apples. Erik's feet perfectly trace the pathways that smaller feet had trodden in games of hide and seek, tag, doctors, nurses, cowboys, indians...all the while that ghostly laughter trickles hauntingly in his ear.

He stops in front of a crumbled circular wall...the old well.

Raven and Charles's postbox.

With trembling hands, and scarsely knowing what he was doing Erik reaches with perfect precision almost as though Charles is there whispering in Erik's ears...and the tears are blurring his vision now as he lifts the hollow brick in his hands.

He daren't turn it over. He must.

What if...what if...

There's something inside.

A small scrap of folded paper...and...oh...

Erik roughly wipes the tears from his face, preventing any more moisture blotting the surface.

_To Erik, from Charles X, _

In the most perfect curling handwriting. Charles's handwriting. No forgery. _  
_

_Everyone thinks we are dead, but I can't let you think that. _

_Nothing can be further from the truth, we have gone to America..._

It changes nothing. It changes everything._  
_

Schmidt is going to die. Erik is going to kill him. He is going to do whatever it takes to protect his family.

Then.

Erik is going to find Charles and his sister Raven.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Thanks to everyone who has favourited and added their kudos so far. Special thanks to Rikka, for being a wonderful beta. You are a star!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Retracing Steps**

**Present**

"Nazi war criminal?" Raven asks carefully, "Just what does that mean?" The meeting discussing the upcoming recruitment trip had abruptly shifted topic. She had not missed the way Erik stiffened at the Director's casual mention of Shaw's name, though outwardly his facial expression remained unchanged.

The sickening feeling in Raven's gut just won't go away.

She knows that somehow the man they are after is the same man from in her brother's nightmares. The ghoulish terrifying spectre whose name used to spill from Charles's lips as he tangled in the bed sheets struggling to escape. She would waken often in the days following her brother's return, frightened that one day she would wake up and Charles would be gone again. "Erik!" He would murmur over and over again as though seeking absolution, and she would slip into bed and hold him close till he calmed and try not to envy the imaginary boy who could wield metal.

Of course now she knew that Erik was real, and by extension Schmidt..? A Germanic name. Were the secret horrors her brother had no care to share with her tangled up in the present? Was it possible Charles had been taken all the way to Germany in the midst of the war?

"He is responsible for signing the death warrent of thousands of Jews," Erik answers her far too calmly. She holds a hand up to her mouth in dawning realisation. "I don't understand how you can you be so calm about it," Moira remarks bitingly, "If Shaw is the man we think he is then-"

"I don't think we need to go into such details," the Director intervenes softly, "Charles, Erik you may start as soon as you are ready." So saying he rises to his feet, concluding the meeting. As the other agents leave Erik leans over Charles murmuring something she cannot catch. Her brother has been unusually quiet - perhaps he is still not fully recovered from the incident in Cerebro? Or perhaps it is something more.

"Charles?" Moira's voice filters back into the room. Raven shivers at the look of sheer hostility that snaps across Erik's face and he glowers at the agent waiting by the door. Charles does not see it, "Of course Moira my dear," he responds rising to his feet. Erik catches his arm, and it is clear something is being silently discussed between them. Her brother frowns, a flash of annoyance in his eyes before he pulls away from the taller man, and follows Moira out.

Erik runs a hand through his hair. "What is going on?" She asks him. He blinks looking at her, then smiles, "With Charles?" She shakes her head, "You know. What was Moira going to say?" He regards her with a frown, "You know the truth already. You knew when you told Charles to stay out of your head...you just never wanted to face it." She frowns drawing herself up unease filling her, "What are you saying?"

"I was in a concentration camp, Schmidt - Shaw whatever you want to call him was a doctor there. Do you know what lies beneath the bracelet your brother wears?" Erik asks softly, "Or did you never bother to find out?" She looks down at his arm, at the tattooed numbers he shows her - 214278, and backs slowly away one hand on her mouth, "No."

"No?" Erik asks in quiet amusement, "He came back to you with his hair shorn, malnourished, a slip of the boy he was and you never suspected? Not even when his nightmares must have woken you?"

She swallows her mind spinning as she sits down heavily, "He would not stop talking about you in the end I thought he had gone mad with fever...and I could not lose him again." She covers her face, surprised when strong hands capture her own, and prize them away. "Raven you will never lose him, if I have anything to say in it I can promise you that," the metal manipulator vows softly. "He is mine, but also yours. I could never take your place in his life, and I never want to. Not a day went by when he did not think of you. You saved him and kept him strong, and through his memories you also saved me - I danced with you, played your games of hide and seek, and postman as my own sister."

"Oh Erik," she swallows and he squeezes her hands gently. She impulsively jumps to her feet and embraces him and though startled he catches her. He is strong, so so masculine, and powerful. "We needed you," she whispers into his shoulder, and he rocks her in his arms, "I know, I'm sorry liebchen. I should have been here." She lets her tears fall, tears she could not show Charles. Fears that she has kept buried deep inside for so long. "Why?" She asks finally, not certain entirely what she is asking. "Why did he not tell you?" Erik takes it to mean, "Why ever does Charles do anything in his _imperial_ judgement? I can guess he wanted to protect you."

She gives a shaky frustrated laugh, "He isn't very good understanding people without his telepathy is he?" Erik gives her a comforting squeeze before setting her back on her feet, "No, it is something of a handicap. What are we going to do with him?"

She laughs, "Oh you have plenty of time to find out just how much trouble one absent minded telepath can get into."

Erik cannot help smiling at the thought. True he was more excited about the recruitment trip about and finding others of their kind than he had realised, but the main benefit was that he was finally going to be alone with Charles. The last time they had been truly alone, they had just one day together, - the most perfect day of Erik's life. Now over half a lifetime later he has Charles by beside him once more, and he intends to make the most of every second they have.

There should also be plenty of time to induct the telepath in a more...suitable...range of clothing.

* * *

**Present - Recruitment Trip**

Logan is not the man they knew.

Erik stands warily back, sensing a concentration of strange metal in the man's bones. Charles takes no heed, throwing himself at the elder mutant, and into his arms.

_Logan, Logan, Logan, _he sings in mental greeting, over and over.

"What the hell?" The man blinks and as those claws slip out from his skin finds himself frozen. Confused Charles rocks back on his heels, before a thoughtful expression crosses his face, "You don't remember…Erik he doesn't remember."

"I got that part Charles," Erik says in a strained tone, as the younger man examines the tip of one of the blades poking through Logan's skin. "Ow," Charles states softly, watching as blood pools on his finger. Erik sighs in exasperation catching the smaller man by his collar. "I can fix this," Charles announces confidently bringing two fingers to his temples – the world flashes white around Logan, as everything returns in a bumbling rush of colour.

_Oh Logan…I am so sorry._

Logan's eyes snap open and he regards the telepath, (_Charles _he remembers now) staring at him with tears in his eyes. Yet everything…its too much to remember all the angst pain and betrayals all in a single moment of time. "Go fuck yourselves," he growls out menacingly, Charles attempts to step forwards, but Erik draws him back. "Come Charles, there is nothing for us here," the metal manipulator orders softly regarding Logan with wary alertness. The smaller man hesitates looking to Logan for a moment longer.

He doesn't say a word, and finally Charles lets the metal manipulator bundle him out the door.

Charles is subdued all the way back to their hotel, and Erik recalls his conversation with Raven earlier. Charles never told her the truth of what happened when he was abducted, not that Erik blames him but it left the telepath with a broken mental bond, and trauma that would have driven lesser men mad and perhaps Raven's fears were justified - Charles did lose himself for a time.

Erik has no intention of losing him again.

The lock clicks shut just as Charles's hand closes on the handle. It is stiff beneath his fingers, and refuses to budge. He blinks in confusion before turning to look at the metal manipulator standing leaning against the bathroom door. Erik skin is dripping with fresh droplets of water, and there is a towel slung low round his waist.

"Open the door Erik," the younger man demands. "Where are you sneaking off to?" The metal manipulator asks instead. Charles looks away, his grip tightening on the handle, "I am not sneaking." Still he tenses at the hand that clasps his shoulder. "Charles," Erik entreats softly lowering his own mental shields, "What happened?"

After a long moment Charles closes his eyes exhaling slowly, "God...he...Erik..." and speech fails him. Erik leans down, gently resting his forehead against the telepath's. "Show me," he entreats once more.

So much...betrayal, pain...grief, and loss.

Logan had lost his beloved Kayla, and endured the worst betrayal off all - from Victor. His own brother.

"Do you think Victor is being manipulated somehow?" Charles asks quietly after a time. Charles had shared an insane connection to Victor. It must hurt him to realise the truth.

Erik shakes his head, and carefully holds the younger man's gaze, "Do you?" He sits quietly on the edge of the bed, and mirrors Erik's gesture slowly. "No," Charles admits softly, unable to deny the wild viciousness that had always been present, just beneath the surface in Victor. It would take little to set him off - and perhaps his separation from Logan had finally done that. Maybe Victor had seen it as a betrayal, but whatever his reasons, he was quite capable of acting so on his own. He needed little incentive.

Fifteen years earlier in order to seal their partnership and cement trust between them Erik had insisted the brothers partake in the bloodbrother ritual he had shared with Charles. Victor had dismissed the sentimentality of it, but in the end had complied unable to resist Charles's intent blue eyes. Logan had smirked at that. Still Erik had known even as Victor gave his vow he had no intention of keeping it. He would be gone at the first turning of the wind - Logan however he was different even then.

Charles is quiet musing over Logan's haunting memories when suddenly he is tugged up and Erik is suddenly leaning close and measuring his shoulders. "What are you doing?" the smaller man asks warily. "We're going shopping," Erik reveals, grinning at Charles's look of confusion. "Shopping?" Charles asks neutrally watching Erik now very carefully. "Yes, we've got an ideal opportunity to catch the mutant working in that other bar."

Charles rubs his eyes tiredly, "The strip club? I thought we weren't going there." Erik smirks, "Well with Logan's dismissal we can't be too picky, and besides we've got some extra time on our hands - but you can't go like that." Charles had always known Erik to be intensely focused. When the metal manipulator's mind was made up there was usually little on heaven or earth that could move him otherwise. He had a tendancy to tackle problems with military precision - and it seemed Erik had decided Charles's lack of _suitable_ clothing was a 'problem'.

The town had a rather large selection of clothing shops - too many for Charles's liking. He stares down in dismay at the growing pile of clothes that he probably is never going to wear. He swallows down his frustration biting his lip as Erik casts a sharp glance at him once more. At least the metal manipulator's efficiency meant that the selection process was quite swift, though did the man have to insist on Charles trying each piece on, and inspecting the result? Charles felt more and more like some model under an intense spot light, and that green eyed metallic gaze was not helping his concentration any.

Erik finally seems satisfied settles the bill and has the rest of the order sent through to their hotel. Charles is too bemused to argue as he is led outside unable to care less about what make of fabric he is clothed in, or the exact tailoring of the suit though it seems to matter to the metal manipulator.

The 'gentleman's bar' is worse than Charles thought it would be.

He is already strained from restoring Logan's memories - the warrior's mind is not an easy one to access. The heady thoughts of the pulsating gyrating dancers, and their watchers hit the telepath hard. He manages to keep his composure despite the too knowing green eyed giant towering over him who comes to rescue him from the bar.

Not that he needed rescuing.

That business man was clearly drunk and there was no need for Erik to shove the man aside, though he did make it look as though the man had simply fallen. Charles glowered at him but Erik merely shrugged _innocently_ and tugged him forwards guiding Charles forwards by simple pulses on the bracelet. A familiar enough routine, and the pulse of gentle energy - snaps the telepath's wondering thoughts back to reality. _Are you alright? _ Erik demands softly, peering into Charles's eyes. He ignores the question giving an excited smile, _she's the one. _Erik holds up a wad of notes, hardly looking at the girl as he takes in the younger man's glazed features. _  
_

The money is apparently enough to warrent a private showing.

Charles regards the double bed warily glancing towards the doors whilst Erik takes a seat, relaxing against the headboard, with a challenging expression on his face. The telepath frowns entirely uncertain about the public setting but the metal manipulator's mouth twitches up and Charles gives a startled cut off yelp as he stumbles forwards into the taller man's lap - landing in quite a compromising position. Erik laughs softly, pressing the younger man down against the cushions, and captures his breath in a swift stolen kiss. Charles exhales shoving him back, _"She's coming!" _he hisses batting the taller man's hands away from his hair.

_Just reminding you of reality, _the taller man responds smugly.

Angel agrees to come with them easily enough her gaze sliding knowingly over the pair of them. Charles is in mental torment from Erik's obvious puns, _We'll show you ours if you show us yours. Really Erik? _He gets his own back easily enough by showing Angel an image of the taller man in drag. It is a spur of the moment thing but it has her in hysterics.

The walk back to their hotel is sheer torture. The heady atmosphere of the club, and its patrons has already done its work on the telepath, and Erik has been hot ever since he had Charles trying on the suits in the shop. Finally alone in their room the metal manipulator turns on Charles without a single word of warning. Under Erik's guidance the younger man loses track of his concerns, forgetting everything but the man undoing him.

"So just what did you show her?" Erik asks softly working his lips against the younger man's jaw. Charles blinks unable to stop the image the flashes through his mind in response to the metal manipulator's question, and Erik's teeth nip his skin as he picks up on the image of himself in a blue dress. The younger man jolts, and is pressed back against the bed.

"I knew you enjoyed all that playing dress up earlier," the metal manipulator grins savagely.

* * *

**Reviews as always are love! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks to everyone still following and for the wonderful feedback - apologies for the delay in getting this part up.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Expanding Horizons**

Angel's recruitment however was followed by three refusals and one...very dangerous fellow.

Charles barely managed to stop Erik from killing the man who had reacted defensively - causing a sharp gash across the telepath's face.

It was never so quick as Logan, but the cuts were healing - would be gone within a few hours. Erik too had gained a swifter healing ability from the warriors via the blood exchange...and whether this had been part of his original motive Charles had never really considered till now. The metal manipulator had always had a startlingly sharp tactical mind. Erik had been the one to work out that it had been the mixing of their blood which had given Charles a slight ability over metal, and Erik the ability to help shield Charles's mind. Victor and Logan's healing abilities were self explanatory - after all how else could they have essentially come back from the dead after being shot? It would take little for Erik to have connected the dots, and to try to enable this advantage for himself and Charles. Logan and Victor never seemed to show any affinity for telepathy or magnetism though Logan's mind had seemed more protected when Charles recently restored his memories - perhaps a legacy of their blood pact?

He frowns considering tearing his gaze from the chess board, and watches the afternoon sunlight reflect over the water, and down the steps of the Lincoln memorial. Erik is sitting beside and slightly above him, one knee tucked up in a semi-relaxed pose. Charles can feel the metal manipulator's natural predatory awareness underneath his calm demeanour - ready at any moment to spring into action if necessary.

Feeling the younger man's questing touch Erik grins, and rather than heighten his mental shields drops them altogether - catching the younger man off guard. He grins at Charles's surprised expression and leans forwards running his hands over the telepath's pale cheeks. "If you're going to cheat then what is the point?" Erik teases, and Charles flushes bright red recoiling suddenly, "I would never," he scowls.

"No?" Erik asks, and then grins, "I would." _I would use every tactical advantage at my disposal, afterall is that not the true philosophy of the game? _Charles scowls at him,_ Maybe I will. Maybe I-_

He breaks off as his chin is gently captured, and tilted up as Erik leans forwards and kisses him sensuously, openly without regard or concern for who might be watching. Charles breaks away, heart hammering in his chest, "Erik!" He hisses, "How can you just-"_  
_

"Oh hush," Erik grins, leaning forwards again, now the chessboard lies forgotten as he presses Charles beneath him, _what are they going to do to us hmm? They need our help to stop Schmidt - who else can?_

_And after that? It is against the law Erik.  
_

_Yes afterwards - do you think they will keep their word? When they no longer have any need of us? They would shape us into the weapons that Schmidt would have made us. You know this in your heart Charles. They would use you to find and hunt down our people, and entrap them. They will seek to 'help' us, moderate and enslave us. They see us as less than human.  
_

Charles sits up with a huff, shoving Erik aside, "You are wrong!" He hisses fiercely, but the taller man merely regards him with lazy amusement, "Am I?" The younger man frowns, "You think that it will come to war? It doesn't have to." _  
_

"No," Erik agrees passively extending his hand, after a moment Charles takes it letting himself be pulled up. The metal manipulator steadies him catching his arms, and leans close to whisper in his ear, "Because we can stop it before they ever think to act." Charles huffs, and the taller man smirks as he enfolds him, "You know I am right." The telepath shoves him back then, "Jerk, and I know no such thing."

That evening however Charles cannot help muse over Logan's recent history, still deeply upset by his sharp rejection. After glowering fiercely at the men and women hanging round the telepath Erik draws him to a table, and attempts to console him, pointing out just how startling it must have been for Logan to find out so much about his past so quickly.

The next day finding Alex locked in solitary confinement sparks a fierce anger in the metal manipulator, and for once Charles cannot deny the uneasy similiarity to their own shared sterile cell in Schmidt's laboratory. Erik remains close by his side and Charles can feel him measuring the weapons of their armed escort as they leave the building with their newest recruit. Charles feels an uneasy prickle of doubt in his mind. Just what were the government's plans for Alex? Surely they had known he was a mutant...and that means they must have known about mutants prior to Moira's discovery of Shaw's people. Perhaps Erik was right to be suspicious of them.

Alex is quiet and subdued - defensive when he does speak, and Charles aches for the younger man's pain. Erik reminds him that they can change that, they can help Alex realise to be proud of his difference, not ashamed. Charles knows it will take some work.

Their next recruit is Sean, who easily agrees to accompany them excited by the prospect of adventure. Their last is Darwin who drives them back to the base in his taxi. Erik finds himself developing an easy friendship with the Brooklyn cab driver as Charles drifts off against his shoulder. It is that more than anything which seems to settle Darwin's mind - an understanding that there are no prejudices here neither in skin, gender or anything. They are all different, but different together.

Erik nods his understanding in the look that passes between them, and lets his gaze drift over Charles's sleeping features. Their time alone was coming to an end once more. He fondly observes the second bracelet on the younger man's wrist now a travel log of their recruitment trip, and works in a sliver of steel fom the shell of Darwin's cab as he drives. Charles stirs in his arms, and Erik runs his fingers over the smaller man's cheek, _Shh sleep Schatz, you're safe. I'm here. _He projects in so many words and images, and the younger man quietens.

The bracelet now holds pieces of tin from the buckets holding the champagne in the intimate bedroom setting of Angel's recruitment. There is a slice of steel from Alex's cell bars - a wary reminder of what they are striving to avoid. A sharp sliver of gold from Sean, and even a small sliver of the strange compelling material that Logan's metal claws had been composed of. Erik had a slightly larger bead of the material in his pocket. That metal...he had not encountered its like before, and it had been powerfully compelling, calling to him with a unique song of its own.

* * *

**Logan POV - Present**

No matter how much he drinks the images just won't go away. They are burned into the retinas of his eyes. Kayla, his beloved Kayla dying...and Victor - just how could he do that? Had he been so jealous of her for taking up Logan's attention? Was Victor truly so vicious? Logan frowns closing his eyes futilely his brother had always had a blood thirsty streak, an innate violence.

Stryker.

The glass shatters in Logan's grasp, and he waves off the barkeeps attention, throwing several thick wads down. That ought to cover the damage. He has barely made it to the door before the bloody streaks in his hand have begun to scab over, and heal. Healing. He had always been a swift healer. Good job too, the amount of times he had been shot, stabbed, and attacked.

His memories are open like pandora's box, and amidst them he finds himself drawn to several cherished images.

Remy - the daredevil street kid with attitude...who had for some reason decided Logan was worth saving.

His old team, the weapon x programme as they gathered the supplies of adamantium for Stryker's project before everything went to hell.

Erik and Charles, the rugrats now men, and how swiftly time had passed, Logan could scarcely believe it. Last time he has seen the little telepath Charles was being embraced by his twin.

* * *

**Past**

Logan had been worried for the younger boy as he almost collapses on their landing. The metal manipulator's name a sharp cry of pain on his lips. Quietly, and scowling at the onlookers Logan bundles Charles up, concealing him from view as much as possible. Logan was not too certain how they would find Charles's home, but the little telepath seems to know where they are going, and directs Logan with little effort though it is clear he is suffering, and perhaps missing his friend more than he is letting on.

"He will be alright you know," Logan assures, and Charles looks up at him with a calm knowing expression, "I know Erik can look after himself, I just wish he didn't have to." Sometimes Charles knew far too much and spoke far too wisely for his age, likely as not a consequence of his telepathy.

Logan will admit he is curious to see this 'other' that he knows exists, and is partly the reason for Erik's decision to remain on the continent. If Charles had been truly alone Logan doubts Erik would have left him at all.

The grandiose mansion house has Logan doubting whether Charles truly knows his way, or they have gotten lost before he considers that perhaps Charles's parents work in the place. The younger boy is confidently marching up to the door, even before Logan has time to scout the area properly.

He is startled as the door opens wide before Charles can even touch the bell, and a boy - his healthy mirror image envelopes him. Logan blinks in surprise he had not even considered that the rugrat was a twin. **  
**

"It's alright Raven, I'm home. I'm here," Charles assures.

Charles is safe, Logan's job is done, and he slips quietly back into the undergrowth unware of a pair of yellow eyes watching him from over her brother's shoulder.

Raven frowns watching the gruff figure disappear and clutches Charles all the more tighter, "Where have you been?" She demands, "You weren't supposed to be so long!" She pulls back regarding his thin frame, and what has happened to his hair?

"What happened?" She whispers, "Charles where have you been?"

Her brother's eyes light up, and he clasps her shoulders, "I have so much to tell you!" _I met someone like us. Erik - our brother, he is going to come after the war, and Victor and Logan - Loga- _

He turns to see that Logan has already gone, the warrior has already melted back into the tree line, and Charles wonders for a moment if it is truly all some strange dream. Raven follows his gaze before drawing him close, "I thought you weren't coming back," she whispers brokenly. "Of course, I promised..." he answers softly holding her close.

When Logan returns to France Erik's trail is already cold. There is nothing to it but to let the boy's need for revenge burn out. Perhaps Schmidt had finally been squashed in the explosion, though Logan very much doubted it. The man was nothing if not persistant.

He turns back at the border. He has a brother of his own to chase down.

* * *

Erik cannot believe how hard it was to turn away from those white cliffs. It had seemed as though his feet were encased in clay, and he had been sure he heard Charles scream his name. That had been the worst moment, he had almost gone right in the water there and then, but for the fact he could not swim. That was a skill he would have to rectify and swiftly. He needed to train. He needed to become strong, and grow enough to be a match for the doctor. He knows deep in his heart that Schmidt is alive.

Even though his footsteps feel leaden Erik forces himself to return to the laboratory. To the ruin. The rubble is still there, just one pile amongst a hundred in the small town. Amidst the ruinse Erik searches for clues, anything that might give some impression and idea where Schmidt has gone. In the end he has but one name from a surviving charred fragment of paper. The letters are too blurred to make out with the eye, but Erik can trace the original intent through the metal in the ink. He has a name. Just a single name. It will have to do for a start.

No. That is not all he has...

...calling to him admidst the rubble of the ruin is a small bloody coin. Schmidt's gift to him. Erik will return it to him in the condition it was given.

* * *

**Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: So so so sorry for the delay in getting this up. To all those still supporting and reading - thank you! **

**Thanks as ever to my wonderful beta Rikka for finding time amongst the hectic schedule of RL to still look through! :) Any remaining mistakes of course my own...  
**

**Warning - this is where major plot diversions from the movie begin. So it may seem a bit strange at first... **

**Enjoy.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Encounters**

Erik regards the group gathered in the pristine white lounge. His gaze flickers to the thick panelled window, and he cannot help but compare it to a viewing point as though they are animals at a zoo. This impression is only heightened by the fact the window faces the inner courtyard of the building, giving no chance of a swift and easy escape.

_Old habits hmm? _An amused voice trickles into his thoughts, and Erik cannot help the instinctive relief that curls in his gut as he looks up into those dazzling sky blue eyes. Charles's teasing however simmers with a coil of unease which he cannot hide from the metal manipulator. The younger man has been unable to deny that for all his paranoia Erik is right.

In spite of the Director's seeming innocence and excitement at having his theories on mutated humans proven, others within the government have known of the existence of mutants for quite some time. There is the strange case of Alex locked in an isolated cell, and the rare metal encasing Logan's skeleton is proof of their experimentation, - something which has reignited Erik's anger, and stirred a sharp anxiety in Charles.

Just how long have these people known of mutants like themselves – and just what protective measures have they developed against them? Are they merely waiting to see just how well the Director's mutant division works or are they waiting for an opportunity to sweep the rug from his feet and take control?

Instead of answering Erik merely smirks, and pulls the smaller man into his lap earning a yelp of surprise – and – a lovely red blush lines the telepath's skin as he leans closer, until their faces are just inches apart. _I will do what I must to prevent you being taken from me Liebling. Judge me for it how you will, I care not so long as you are safe. _

The telepath's flush deepens as Erik's fingers trail in a light caress against his cheeks deliberately seeking to undo him. A low cough from Raven breaks them apart. For a moment Erik had forgotten they were not alone, and Charles blinks seeming to come out of a trance before scrambling up out of the metal manipulator's arms.

_Erik really? Here…and oh my…_

The taller man chuckles at the flustered telepath, reaching to pull the smaller man back down when Charles stiffens and grabs Erik's arm for balance. The telepath cannot help but pick up the excited exclamation from the Director's mind - it is as though the man is verbally shouting the news across the building in his excitement.

_Erik…they've…found him._

Charles swallows visibly shaken and Erik is on his feet reaching to steady the smaller man, hands settling on his shoulders. Metallic earth green eyes lock with sky blue.

They've found him. Schmidt. Finally they've found him.

_"YES!" _Alex shouts, and Darwin bangs the side of the pinball machine excitedly both oblivious to the sudden tension in the room.

Raven stiffens watching as her brother races to the door – only to suddenly stop as though he has hit an invisible wall. The look he casts back to Erik is startled, but then the metal manipulator is opening the door and in a seemingly gallant motion gestures Charles to go through in front of him.

The metal manipulator glances back, his green gaze sharp and urgent as it meets her own.

_Raven it is almost time._

She freezes as the implications behind Erik's words sink in, and it takes a moment for her to regain her mask of indifference, luckily her companion doesn't appear to have noticed her gaze fixed on the colours of the drink in her glass as she slowly swirls it in her hand.

"So just what is the deal with those cats?" Angel asks contemplatively. "Cats?" Raven queries in surprise. The winged mutant grins, "Erik and your brother they seem…close." Raven assesses the other girl's seeming casual interest - Angel did not seem the judgemental or romantic type but maybe beneath her tough exterior she was just in need of someone.

Perhaps a friend.

Raven's brightest memory was when she had first revealed her true self to Charles. His delighted smile had made her realise that while she may not be a normal human being it did not necessarily mean she was a monster_. _A warm burst of hope had ignited for the first time in her heart at his giddy mental greeting.

_I always knew I could not be the only one. _

Angel had had no one to hold or comfort her over her differences, no one who could truly understand not like Raven had Charles, and Raven knew from her life before-Charles just how cruel humans could be. His abduction had taught Raven to never take his presence for granted and she was only just learning to share him with Erik. She was not certain she could yet stand to share Charles with anyone else and it was certainly none of Angel's business to scrutinise her brother for his chosen relationships. Yet Erik's parting warning echoes in her mind, and at least for now if she cannot see the other as a _friend _perhaps she can at least try for _ally. _

"They've known each other a while," Raven offers. Angel snorts, "Yeah they've got history, I can see that. I guess what I'm trying to say is I haven't seen two people just so...connected you know?" Raven takes a hasty sip of her soda. "Seeing those two I can almost believe there is someone out there just for me," Angel sighs, "Someone who maybe matches my soul."

Sean gives a sudden snort of laughter, causing Angel to glare at him. "What?" The winged mutant demands angrily. Raven sensing the sudden tension moves instinctively to divert its course shifting into the laughing boy's mirror image. He gives a yelp of surprise reeling back in shock but the only thing Raven registers is Angel's amused laughter, "Wow sister that is so cool..."

As she unfolds her glittering gossamer wings, Raven allows a slow smile to adorn her face as she meets Angel's playful gaze.

Distracted from the pinball machine Darwin gives an awed whistle, and when challenged in turn to display his ability sticks his head in the aquarium - his neck forming gills to enable him to breathe.

"Amazing…" Sean breathes.

Silence falls at the tentative knock on the door, and Raven jumps to her feet her face splitting into a true grin as she drags the newcomer forwards into the room. "Hank you came!" She beams, and proceeds to introduce him to the rest of the group. Alex looks up with a brief, "Hey Bozo," and that is that. "I just came to ask -" Hank begins but doesn't get to finish as Angel shoves a bottle into his hands, "Here sit down, even intellectuals need a break every now and then right?"

"You're a scientist here?" Darwin asks slouching on the opposite couch next to Alex, "I bet you get to work on some really interesting stuff." Alex however frowns a bitter expression in his eyes as he takes a gulp of his drink, "Yeah - like us. That's what you're here for right? You want to study us, find out how we tick? What makes us different?"

"I-" Hank stutters when Raven overides him, "Its not like that - Hank is _different_." Alex snorts, "Different? I'm here because my other choice is to be locked in a little white cell. They were talking about studying me there too."

"Of course I want to know more about you," Hank responds, "That is what I do its-" He breaks off to stare out the window from where a pair of suits wave at him. "Hey McCoy what are you doing with the freak show?" Absolute silence falls in the room as the jeers continue and Raven feels her heart plummet. "Jerks," Angel mutters sinking back into her chair, "These are supposed to be the good guys?"

Darwin gives a sarcastic wave back to the men, "Just ignore them," he advises softly, "they're just trying to provoke us." Sean grabs his hand however as he moves to slide the blinds shut, "Wait it's my turn!" He screeches – and the glass wall shatters.

The two agents hold a stunned expression before backing slowly away. Darwin shakes his head, "Sean that wasn't necessary." The younger boy shrugs, "They wanted a show." He looks at the scientist curiously, "So what can you do?" Hank closes his gaping mouth and flushes a bright red. Sean grins, "Oh come on - Raven said you were different. I'm presuming like us so what are you hiding?"

"Hey just quit it Sean," Alex growls softly, surprising them all. Hank gives a startled smile before he shakes his head, "Its not anything flashy like yours-" he hesitates before slowly removing his shoes to reveal his feet. Sean whistles in appreciation, "Awesome man I bet you can run really fast," he exclaims excitedly. "I haven't really tried," Hank answers shyly, catching Raven's warm grin. "Come on Alex your turn," Angel coaxes, and then as the blond youth refuses the others slowly build up into a chorus. "All right - all right!" he growls stepping out the shattered window, "But you have to stay back!"

That is when the statues get obliterated.

Raven has a feeling that perhaps they should have stopped with the shattered window but cannot help but feel awed by the dazzling display of Alex's power.

"JUST WHAT IS GOING ON?" A sharp angry voice demands from behind them. There is an unknown agent standing in the room, with five men, all wearing black and bearing firearms.

Raven does the only thing she can.

She screams.

* * *

The thing about Charles Xavier is he seems such a likeable harmless young professor.

It takes but a moment for Moira to realise that all her previous assumptions about him are false. In spite of knowing the power the man possesses she has fallen into his deceptive facade.

Erik is glaring at the Director demanding to know just how they have suddenly come up with a location on Schmidt suspicion in every line of the metal manipulator's body. The tension is rising between the two men, and Moira is surprised that Charles has not intervened. Ever since the beginning of the meeting he has been unusually quiet.

Then quite suddenly a sharp pain flickers in Moira's vision - she sees a room, a very familiar room with shattered glass, and statues - here on the base. The newly recruited young mutants facing an angry looking agent that looks like Stryker.

"Raven," Charles hisses softly in the sudden silence - and when did he get to his feet? Erik is staring after the smaller man, all traces of his anger and argument with the Director wiped from his face as the telepath sprints through the door.

The Director shakes his head, as she unsteadily gets to her feet, "What was that?" She wonders aloud, moving to follow in their wake. The Director exhales sharply, "If I'm not mistaken Stryker could be about to bring everything we've worked for to the ground. Moira you have to stop him. We can't have them leaving - not now. Not this close in the game."

* * *

_CHARLES!_

Raven screams hoping that her brother is not so caught up in whatever is going on that he still hears her. Alex has moved forwards along with Darwin in a strangely protective motion. Just what do they think they are doing? "I know your face," the blond youth murmurs to the agent in low accusation. Raven feels shivers run down her spine as the men lift their guns and slowly begin to aim.

Then they are slumping forwards eyes closing as though knocked out by an unseen gas.

"What?" Alex starts in surprise glancing round as though expecting to see some previously hidden foe. His gaze fixes on Charles as he races through the doors, "Professor was that you?" The youth's question goes unanswered as Charles glances round, his gaze resting on Raven before quickly glancing to them all. A look of intense relief flickers across his features, before he turns to regard the unknown agent.

Raven sees a look of strange recognition in her brother's eyes followed by a sharp sense of forboding. "Profess-" Alex and Darwin cry in tandum - but they are too close to prevent the startling attack. There is a loud sickening crack of gun fire, and Raven can only stare in mute shock as Charles crumples to the ground.

Red.

There is so much red…

Raven is distantly aware of someone catching her as her knees give way, of the agent being slammed into a near wall and held in a choking stranglehold by Alex and Darwin. Later she will realise that it is Hank who lifts her up, who lets her bury her face into his white lab coat to hide from tears that will not fall.

The unknown agent had been hastily arrested, after Erik had been prized off the man by Alex, Darwin, Hank, and three other men who had not fared well.

The rest is a hazy blur of motion, of figures and motion. Her actions a dim haze as she obeys the only voice that can get her to move.

Erik.

Somehow the metal manipulator has gotten them all out of the building and into a transport vehicle. Hank shocked at the violence of his superiors has chosen to accompany them, leaving the Director to deal with the ensuring chaos. The Director had looked torn a desperate look in his eyes as he tried to prevent them from leaving.

One look into the metal manipulator's eyes however had caused him to step aside, a low threat in his voice, "I am not leaving him here for you to conduct your experiments on. I suggest you do not attempt to locate us, if you wish to remain alive."

At Erik's parting threat none dared step in his path as he held Charles's body in his arms cradled close to his chest, his glittering green eyes shimmering with unshed murderous tears.

Time flows into a silent murmur. The vehicle they are in stops. Raven is dimly aware of darkness as she follows the voice once more, slipping out she sees that night has fallen, and they appear to be in a dark clearing off the highway they change into a new sleeker vehicle.

It is almost as though this was planned.

_Raven it is almost time. _

The metal manipulator's words tear through her frozen mind.

No…

Erik is moving to the back of the transit where he calmly hovers over her brother's body, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

_"Man what are you doing?" _

_"Hey stop him!" _

_"Has his mind snapped?"_

_"I can't move!"_

_"Erik let us go!"_

The metal manipulator is laughing. Has his mind snapped with her brother's death?

"Charles, how long do you intend on playing dead?" The metal manipulator grins leaning over her brother's body as though intending to kiss him. "Wake up sleeping beauty," Erik murmurs softly, his voice lowering to a sensual seductive pitch as he kisses her brother's cool lips.

Several moments pass by, and Raven feels a shiver of apprehension run down her spine. What are they going to do now? They can't go back, but Erik clearly needs help. She glances round at her companions – Hank, Alex, and Sean's hold expressions of what in other circumstances would be comical shock in their features, Darwin however holds a saddened expression, and Angel – the winged mutant holds an openly heartbroken expression in her eyes.

It is breaking Raven's heart. Why is Erik doing this? Isn't it enough that she has lost her brother?

"Liebling, come now it is time," the metal manipulator continues softly, and Raven can no longer stand it she opens her mouth to scream at him to -

_Slap._

Raven stills. Corpses do not possess the ability to move. They also do not possess the ability to strike arrogant insufferably handsome metal manipulator's across the face.

Charles groans, blue eyes shattering open as he regards the taller man crouched over him. "You're awful, you know that right?" He hisses, a wince of pain filling his features as he is helped to his feet. "Well you will insist on ignoring the man with a gun," Erik responds unrepentantly his smirk widening as Raven charges forwards fiercely enveloping her brother.

_Charles, Charles, Charles, _her mind sings in fearful joy. She was so sure she had lost him.

"What happened? How did…?" Hank asks slowly, his mind whirling at the implications. He had seen Charles shot – and there had been so much blood.

The telepath sighs, shoving the metal manipulator off him, "Prince Charming here saved the day," he mutters, "Yes I was shot, but Erik caught the bullet."

"But the blood…you weren't breathing…you…" Sean mumbles dazedly, looking as though he is about to faint. Darwin steadies the teen. "A mix of illusion and reality," Charles explains, "though Erik's timing could have been better."

"You are lucky it was just a graze," the metal manipulator responds in a suddenly serious tone, a scolding look in his eyes. "Charles is right – you're awful!" Raven hisses slapping the taller man across the cheek. "You could have told me – us!" Erik blinks as Raven's gesture is followed by a harsher slap from Angel, "Don't do that again!"

"Why all the subterfuge?" Alex asks in the sharp silence. "It came to our attention that whilst the Director may be innocent, there are other divisions of the CIA who have known about our kind for some time," Charles explains in a calm voice, "and have even gone so far as to capture and conduct experiments on certain individuals." The blond youth pales and his fists clench, "I knew it! I knew those guys weren't joking!" He swallows looking back into sympathetic blue eyes, "If you hadn't found me…" he trails off, blinking when Charles's hand settles on his shoulder. "You're amongst friends now Alex, you're no longer alone. We all have our fears, we have all been isolated from society – and we will face the future together – if you wish to stay. Though I am very sorry for placing the rest of you in danger."

"What do you mean?" Angel asks softly. Charles runs a hand through his hair, "You've got a choice as of now – you can go back to your lives, form new ones on your own, or chose to accompany Raven to a place I hope you will come to call home." Sean snorts, "I hope you've got a big place Professor – Alex snores like a bear." Soft laughter follows the young teen's statement, and the tension dissipates slightly.

"Where are you going?" Darwin interrupts, "Why did you fake your death Professor?" This time Erik clears his throat, "Shaw will be in Russia meeting an associate within the next 48 hours. Though this information came through to the CIA at a rather convenient time," he reveals. "It is a trap then?" Alex wonders, "You can't be seriously going-" Erik's grin deepens, "There is little else but to spring it – we have no other leads. However Charles will not be expected, and that gives us a slight advantage."

"You're saying…someone from the agency has been feeding Shaw information all along?" Hank asks in surprise. The metal manipulator nods, "Yes, though of late he has not had much success – his telepath was being blocked." Erik smirks looking down at Charles who sighs as Raven pinches his arm, "Why didn't you tell me? How long have you been blocking the bitch out?"

"Since the Caspartina…" Charles answers sheepishly before a slow realisation comes upon him, he looks round at them all curiosity shining in his eyes as he asks, "Why do you keep calling me Professor?"

Now its Raven's turn to blush and she pulls slightly away hoping to evade her brother's sudden sharp scrutiny, "Raven?"

* * *

_We came up with some really good names for everyone, I'm Mystique, Erik is Magneto… and you're Professor X._

Charles shakes his head, rubbing his aching temples fighting off the anxious memory as he watched the black van bearing the younger mutants peel away back onto the highway. He had mentally followed them all the way to the state border, before Raven had given him the equivalent of a mental hug, and ordered him to stop spying on them.

Erik had insisted on continuing to drive, until they reached a small town hotel which seemed to appeal to the metal manipulator's tastes.

Charles exhales in sinking dismay, it seems Erik was right for all his precautions.

_Of course, I knew you would see it my way - eventually. _

Charles opens his eyes, and frowns at the taller man leaning over him. "Erik," he huffs but falls quiet as the metal manipulator's fingers rest on his temples - emitting a soothing coolness despite Erik's normally warm skin. _What are you doing? _Charles demands but makes no attempt to pull away, the quiet in his mind is peaceful. _Let me do this for you Charles, relax. I know you're in pain - let me ease it. _

The younger man opens his eyes, "We need to sort-"

"I've done it. We're flying out in the morning," Erik answers firmly.

"Moira?" Charles cannot help asking, and Erik grins, "She is coming to Russia. I can't wait to see her face when she sees you." The younger man flushes, "You always were a sadist."

Charles misses Erik's savage smirk as he looks away. "Stop worrying over the children,"_ they are quite capable of finding their way to Westchester, _Erik commands sternly. He will not admit that it is as much a distraction for himself as unlike Charles he does not form easy attachments, and he certainly would not go so far as to say he _cared _for the younger mutants, though perhaps he may feel some slight responsibility for drawing them into such a dangerous situation.

The younger man frowns, "Did you come here just to tell me this? Do you know how difficult it is not to think of something once-" he breaks off with a startled yelp as he is lifted from his feet, and in a dizzying rush of motion is sprawled on soft covers, hands pinned above his head, and a warm possessive body pressed against him.

"I really came to put you to bed," Erik purrs in his ear. Charles's beautiful blue eyes widen at the taller man's possessive motions, and the surge of fierce protectiveness that emanates from the metal manipulator's mind, and swallows uncertain at what has sparked such a surge of emotion in him.

"Do you really have to ask Charles?" Erik rumbles softly, whilst he works to efficiently slide the cotton shirt from the younger man's shoulders, revealing the perfect pale skin beneath, just begging to be touched. He gasps at the soft cackle of electricity that sparks from the metal manipulator's fingers, igniting a fire in his heart.

Warm possessive humour sparkles in Erik's green eyes, that are shining with unshed tears as he brushes the still fading graze on the younger man's brow. Yes, he had caught the bullet…but it had been so close – and Charles had been hurt. "Don't make me do that again," Erik exhales, "I don't care if it was an act, it was too real – I held your body to me and you weren't breathing and I-"

In realisation Charles slowly sits up, reversing their positions as he carefully pushes the taller man down, straddling his hips. He gently caresses the taller man's chiselled jawline and cheek. "Erik love, shh – I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. Do you think I'm letting you out of _my_ sight this time hmm?" _You're never going to escape me, not again. _

"Is that a challenge?" Erik smirks, before arching into surprised gasp. "No it is a fact," Charles replies too innocently. "Hngh," the taller man shudders as Charles's manipulative fingers sneak below his waist, and teasing tendrils light an aching fire in his mind. His body is beginning to burn, and no one with such angelic features should be able to – "Hngh," Erik groans arching up into the smaller man's touch but Charles is still mostly clothed and that just won't do.

With fracturing control Erik twists, feeling a smirk of victory at the smaller man's startled cry, as he is pinned beneath him once more. A deft flick of his fingers has the telepath bound, wrists locked in smooth metal cuffs that leave the taller man to freely work on removing the pesky barriers remaining between them.

Charles hisses softly, struggling weakly against the tightening restraints, but his captor knows him too well, and it is not long before he is shuddering in the metal manipulator's grasp, arching and twisting against him. "Erik," he moans and the metallic green eyes regard him in tender possession as he falls apart.

Strong possessive arms draw him close holding him tightly in the aftermath as warm fingers stroke tenderly through his sweat soaked hair. "Sleep Liebling," Erik murmurs softly revelling in the younger man's slow relaxation. Still it is some time before he can coax his own mind to rest, the terrible fear rising once more at the younger man's frightening stillness. That soft breath tickles his throat, but Erik does not move relaxing at the sensation – the reminder that Charles is breathing. He is alive, and not some motionless corpse in his arms.

He knew that the younger man had the ability to control other people, but Erik had never truly witnessed the lengths of control Charles held over his own body. Illusion or not it had been enough for Erik to truly believe for just a few moments that the younger man was dead – and he had never been so terrified in his life.

This room is not helping either. It reminds him of one he was in when he had just returned from successfully interrogating the banker. Calmly he lifts the coin out of his pocket, examining the engraved details he knows by heart. He will return this coin to Schmidt.

Quietly he slips out of bed, tucking the blankets carefully around the sleeping figure. Charles appears younger when he rests, his features relaxed into a rare innocence that holds Erik spellbound as he toys with the coin, letting it slide through his fingers. The banker had been less than amusing, most of Erik's targets were, once the realisation of just how powerless they truly were sank into their minds - their possessions and station meant little to the one holding the ability to end their lives.

Still the banker had been different. For the first time Erik had let a target live. Whilst the banker had not had any direct involvement with the Nazi's or Schmidt's schemes, the man had known, and willingly chosen to protect these criminals. So why had Erik let the banker live? He had later reasoned it was because he may need further information if the lead did not work out. It certainly had nothing at all to do with the picture of the family on the banker's desk. Nothing at all.

The metal manipulator looks back to the younger man, and runs an exasperated hand through his hair. Today he had watched Charles die. True it had been an act, but it only heightened the realisation that tomorrow...tomorrow was the confrontation with a man who had tormented both their lives. A man Erik had no intention of allowing near Charles again.

Not if he could help it.

* * *

**AN: Reviews always gratefully received. **


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Sorry again for the long delay. For those of you still persevering here is the next part.  
**

**Few changes due to review by my wonderful beta. :)  
**

* * *

**Chapter 11 – Battlefields**

Erik is speaking softly with a professional if somewhat subdued Moira when he picks up on a very familiar presence.

No.

He purposely ensured that Charles would not get himself free in time.

Moira stills and her face pales as though she has seen a ghost, and for herself she has. For a moment Erik is concerned that she may faint, but instead she turns to him and for the third time in as many days he is slapped across the face.

"Oh he deserves much more than that," Charles smiles as he saunters forwards looking non the worse for wear, nor even slightly out of breath. Erik frowns in displeasure, which deepens as the agent dares to enfold the smaller man in a hug. "Charles...I thought you were dead!" She steps back her gaze raking over the telepath in disbelief, "I saw you bleeding out..." she trails off her voice breaking in remembrance. "I'm sorry for putting you through that, trust me it was necessary," he explains quietly. "I don't appreciate being used like that," Moira responds after a moment, "but I can't say it's not a relief you're here now."

Erik cuts off the heartfelt greetings by grabbing the smaller man's arm, and stalks back towards the hanger building. "I thought I left you a little tied up," he growls fiercely, "surely that gives you some indication that I don't want you on this mission." Charles stops, and pulls Erik to a halt with him, "Yes, thank you so much for that. Though I should say it gave me ample opportunity to practice my metal bending skills. Have you no sense? What if _she_ is there? What if she did manage to get into your mind? You were lucky enough the first time. She will be expecting you now and I won't let you near her alone."

Green eyes meet unrelenting blue.

On the runway Moira is privy to the silent battle of wills, watching with growing trepidation. The tension in the air is taut enough to incite electricity, and one of them is certainly more than capable of it. "Guys we need to work together here," she announces sharply. Erik snaps round a murderous glare in his eyes and Moira fights the reflexive ache to curl her fingers round the gun slung at her hip - stupid for all the good it would do her in a direct confrontation with the very man who can wield metal.

Then he casts an annoyed glance over his shoulder, and throws up his hands in seeming defeat, stalking back towards the waiting jet.

"Don't mind him," Charles announces softly, "he is so used to relying only on himself he forgets there are others watching his back now." She frowns, "Lehnsherr seems like a loose cannon to me." The telepath looks at her with genuine surprise in his eyes. She leans closer, "Charles can you trust that he will make the right choice when it comes to it?" The younger man frowns closing off so abruptly that she feels a chill down her spine. "You have it backward Moira," he responds softly, _it is your agency that has proven they cannot be trusted. Do you really think that Stryker's actions have not been planned for some time? Just how long has his division known about mutants?  
_

"Charles..." she falters, "believe me I did not know."

"I know but now you do," Charles responds softly, _and the question is what choice will you make? _She is unable to look away from those blue eyes until he turns and walks in the metal manipulator's footsteps. She takes a shaky breath unable to deny Charles's truth. The agency was corrupt, plans within plans, secrets within secrets. Stryker's actions hinted at something she could only guess at. The Director's work and theories had been ridiculed for years...and all along Stryker's division had known he was right about mutants.

_You have it backward Moira. _ Yes, not just in her faith in her employers but also perhaps in her assessment of the two mutants before her. She watches the embarking soldiers give respectful nods to the metal manipulator as he waits for the smaller man to catch up. Charles however is ignored.

The others did not _see_ him.

Charles was clearly much more powerful than he initially revealed. How could telepathic parlour tricks compare visually to Raven's shocking blue form? It was so easy to believe Charles was just a harmless bumbling well meaning professor, yet he had the ability to freeze people, and now he passed by unseen. Even now it was Erik who stood out in the pair, the one who physically appeared like the greatest threat...but what if that was just another illusion?

* * *

The plane journey is interesting enough in its own right. A perilous journey into the heart of enemy territory under the cover of night. A journey of stealth, and secrets, and survival. When she gets up to stretch her legs she realises two of the group are missing. Quietly she heads towards the rear of the craft, and slips into the cargo hold. What she sees there both ignites and breaks her heart stealing the breath from her lungs.

Her missing mutants are entwined together upon the floor.

On take off the metal manipulator had prowled the length of the craft agitation visible in every rigid line of his being, possibly due to the mission, being so close to his nemesis at last, or something to do with the dynamic of the jet and its metal. Now however Erik is relaxed to the point of being comatose - dosed no doubt with a particular telepathic brand of sedative. His head is resting in the smaller man's lap, and his eyes are closed in tranquil repose adorned with an expression of peace that seems almost surreal on the metal manipulator's features. Charles's fingers are gently weaving through Erik's hair, and if the telepath were a cat she is most certain Charles would be purring.

She sighs softly, and Charles's eyes flicker up to meet her own. Of course he knew she was there - so he wanted her to see this. _Well? _She asks. He wears a weary smile on his lips_, love cannot be boxed into its own categories. He is my heart, the anchor for my mind, and the other half of my soul. Never will I regret or feel shame for him. _

_Nor should you, _she responds after a contemplative moment, _but that does not mean you should flaunt the law so brazenly. Whether outdated or not. _A frustrated almost desperate look lights his features, _why should we wait until our own youth is wasted and but distant memory? _She steps closer and grasps his hands,_ I do not make the laws Charles but they can be changed and it seems to me that you could be a force of much good in many arenas. _

* * *

Erik fights to keep the edges of his mouth twitching up in amusement. God damn it - it was _not _funny. Not at the time and certainly not three Godforsaken pothole road ridden hours later.

Charles is humming softly to himself. The telepath's wicked delight is _still_ curling at the edges of Erik's mind. This had been immediately preceded by Erik's harsh return to reality and the undeniable turbulance of the plane landing and the realisation that he was lain in Charles's lap. _Over three hours ago!_

_Not all telepaths want to play nice Erik, _Charles had pronounced smugly leaving him several gaping steps behind and scrambling to catch the telepath up.

It was still _not_ funny but after several hours riding in the back of the godforsaken farmer's truck the metal manipulator was very tempted to ask Charles to knock him out again until they got to their destination. If they went over just _one_ more pot hole.

The trickle of amusement on the fringe of Erik's mind falters. He looks down at Charles noting the sudden tension in the younger man's taut grip on the edge of the bench. The truck jerks to a sudden stop, and Moira peers urgently into the back. "I'm sorry this wasn't on the map," she murmurs anxiously. Charles peers up behind her making out the checkpoint, "don't worry act normal. I'll handle it."_  
_

The guard's mind is easy to convince - he doesn't even get out of his tower - simply lifting up the barrier and accepting the blank bit of paper which Moira waves in front of his eyes as a pass.

Erik feels a warm surge of pride and claps Charles lightly on the leg in support as he stumbles back down. "Well done," he praises and grins at the pleased flush that tints the telepath's cheeks. _Could you prevent them seeing this? _The metal manipulator teases softly, projecting his intent to press the smaller man back down against the bench in a steamy possessive kiss. _All these men around you...I feel a sudden need to stake my claim. _Charles exhales sharply, _I always knew you were part cave man. _

Then they are at the house, and suddenly stepping out of the helicopter is a lone woman - the diamond telepath, but unfortunately she seems to be alone, and Charles listening in from one of the guards realises that Schmidt is not coming. Hearing this Erik is up and running forwards ignoring Moira's shouts. Charles looks down at her stricken features, but pulls out of her grip, "I'm sorry but I can't let him go alone."

Then he is following in the metal manipulator's footsteps, slowed by his own compassion in putting to sleep the guards tangled up in wire. A deliberate move on Erik's part to slow him down, knowing Charles would follow. Granting enough time for the metal manipulator to clear the way of any immediate danger to the telepath.

Emma is sitting in a chair, filing her nails when Erik storms into the room. She grins, rising to her feet, "Hello again-"

A startled gasp announces Charles's arrival, and Erik follows the younger man's gaze to the bed, where the General appears to be fondling air. "Nice trick," Charles notes with a frown. Emma shrugs, her smile widening, "I thought so." As Charles sends the startled General to sleep Emma shifts into a familiar diamond form, and Charles gasps. Erik catches his arm, _"What is it?" _

_Its like she isn't there... _Charles responds faintly. "Don't bother - you won't be getting anything from me - not like this," Emma gloats clearly enjoying Charles's pain. Erik snarls, and lunges towards her as she tries to run. Charles moving in tandem, and together they tackle her to the ground and then Erik is binding her with the metal bed frame.

Emma gains some breath, "Schmidt was quite furious on learning of the telepath's death. He will be pleased to see you're still alive." A strangled sound escapes Charles's lips, and Emma grins. "Oh yes darling, my coming here was not an accident. Who do you think let the CIA know of Shaw's plans? So we are all here...and just who is at your little base?"

Erik laughs, "You think we didn't realise that?" Emma's expression falters for just a moment before her gaze hardens, "Schmidt was anticipating meeting you there but it won't take him long to realise you are here," she taunts. Erik stills from the dreadful realisation she was right. Internally his mind begins to race, analysing hastily made escape plans, for under no circumstances could Schmidt get his hands on Charles again.

Emma gasps suddenly back in her human form - and Charles's fingers rest upon his brow in grim determination. Erik is powerless to intervene in the telepathic battle going on, he can only watch, and hope that it finishes soon enough for him to drag Charles out. Then the younger man's blue eyes are tearing open - filled with utter despair. "It's worse than we ever imagined," Charles swallows as Erik drags him to his feet, and towards the door.

"My my...leaving so soon?" Emma chuckles, and Erik stills hearing a strange popping sound accompanied by a vile sulphuric smell.

A grey suited man, the red skinned teleporting mutant, and someone whose face is all too familiar.

_ Herr Doktor Schmidt. _

"Ah…I thought perhaps your absence was a little conspicuous my dear Erik," Schmidt's voice drips with the same cool amusement as on the Caspartina, as though this were merely some game. The metal manipulator stills, feeling the undeniable surge of fierce anger begging to be unleashed like a tide. Schmidt. Herr Doktor, his mother's murderer stands before him. He _needs _to -

_Erik you are not alone._

Charles. The younger man is standing right beside him. _Yes, I am here you are not alone darling. _Charles sends and Erik feels an abrupt calm settle through him. A deep peace within his soul like taking the very first breath after a storm as he meets sky blue eyes. _  
_

"You'll have to forgive me for being late," Schmidt continues softly, "I see you have already 'met' Emma again, allow me to introduce Azazel and Riptide," he announces casually. The teleporter lowers his blades tail twitching as he watches Schmidt's gaze fall upon the man standing beside the metal manipulator. A young man, human looking on the outset but for his eyes - a deep radiant sky blue.

Schmidt's smile sharpens into swift recognition, "Hello Charles Liebling."

The calm shatters.

* * *

**Some Time Earlier**

The men at Villa Gesel are too easy to kill, almost like pawns dangled before Erik's nose. It is as though Schmidt knows Erik is coming, and is deliberately leaving this trail to taunt him. Erik cannot shake his own paranoid suspicions - until he almost collides into a small boy in the midst of the milling station crowd. The metal manipulator is shocked out of his musings by the fierce bright blue of the child's eyes.

_Charles's eyes. _

Erik is on one knee, staring after the boy - until he realises just how unseemingly his postion is, and the boy's mother is staring at him.

No this is not Charles. Charles is if anything a young man by now preferably in college and far away from the world of intrigue and menace that Erik must navigate. Yes. That is what keeps Erik going, the thought that Charles, and Raven are safe and kept far away from Schmidt's reach.

Schmidt must never be allowed near Charles again. Erik will do anything to prevent it.

He cannot predict that barely two weeks later their worlds will collide again.

* * *

**Please review...**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Here is part 12 - not currently checked by my beta, so apologies for any mistakes.  
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**Please let me know what you think!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 12 – Bonds**

Erik's calm shatters as Schmidt's gaze falls upon Charles. No. Charles was not supposed to be here. _Why did he not ensure the strength of those bindings? If he had then Charles would never have broken free in time...he would not have been on the jet, he would not be here...  
_

"Liebling Liebling Charles," Schmidt smiles with mock fondness in his eyes, "You were always so quiet, I suspect you've quite the mental reach hmm?"

A soft gasp escapes the young professor's lips his face paling as sharp pained memories flooding back into his mind. Realising what is happening Erik snaps out his palm, and the smug grin on the diamond telepath's face breaks off into a choked gasp. Schmidt's smile widens at the anger in the metal manipulator's features.

_You are not that boy anymore – neither am I. We are no longer defenceless against him Charles,_ Erik projects fiercely and his mind envelopes the younger man's in a protective shield. Shaw watches with a widening smile as Emma slumps to the floor clawing at her throat. Seeing Schmidt's amusement the metal manipulator stops his torture, and the diamond telepath draws in grateful gasps of air, her rattling breath echoing in the sudden quiet.

"Ah Erik I thought we had grown beyond such weaknesses," Schmidt smirks. The metal manipulator shakes his head, "I won't harm my own kind for your enjoyment." Herr Doktor's smile deepens, "Why should I care? She has become a liability...and I'd much rather be reunited with my liebchen."

Schmidt smiles extending his arm, "Come my children we can do this the easy or the hard way."

"And the _people_ at the CIA base?" Charles demands. Schmidt laughs, "Lets just say I put them out of their misery." Riptide suddenly pitches forwards, collapsing in a silent heap upon the ground and though Azazel's expression gives nothing away, Erik can feel his sudden tension as the warrior's grip tightens on his blades. "Out of their misery?" Charles repeats sharply, "what gives you the right to judge?" Schmidt's expression shifts to a frown, "You cannot tell me you cared for them? Those pathetic humans are not your kin Charles." Schmidt gives a slow smile, "Erik knows the truth."

Charles glances up at the metal manipulator and a betrayed look crosses his features, _Erik? You agree with him? _Green eyes lock with questioning blue, _Charles - we can discuss this later. You know how he works. He is trying to divide us. _The younger man shakes his head,_ but you believe that human lives are not of the same value as our own?  
_

Watching the silent argument Schmidt glances at the red mutant awaiting his orders, "Azazel why don't you escort Charles back to our base? I'm sure he'll come round after a while." His words take a moment to filter - but even as Azazel darts forwards Erik is quicker, and the red mutant's swords turn swiftly upon him holding him at bay.

"You think that I will just _let_ you take him?" Erik snarls his arm suddenly locking around Charles's throat in the perfect facade of resolute fury. _Calm yourself, _he mentally orders the startled telepath. Something flickers in Schmidt's eyes, "My dear Erik surely you don't think I would harm either one of you. What I do is for the benefit of our kind."

"Such as killing my mother?" Erik demands, "she was a _pathetic _human afterall." Schmidt shakes his head, "Erik I truly am sorry for that. Your mother was a remarkable woman. She was sentenced for the camps…and I could only save one of you." So reasonable the slide of oil from Schmidt's tongue.

"And if I had moved the coin? Was it all just another trick?" Erik demands angrily. Schmidt's expression softens into seeming remorse, "you've seen first hand what they will do to each other in the name of _war. _How long do you think it will be until they turn upon you?" His voice softens, "should you succeed in defeating me you only set yourselves up as the next target. You know this Erik. I only wish to build a world where our people are safe."

"No you wish to rule," Charles hisses, struggling in Erik's sudden restraining grip. Schmidt shrugs, "I only wish for my knowledge and wisdom to be used for the benefit of our kind. How else can I better do that?" The younger telepath's eyes glow, "Benefit? You would shape us into _monsters_."

Around them items begin to lift off the ground accompanied by a low rushing howl of wind. Azazel snags Schmidt's hand, and manages to grab Riptide vanishing in a cloud of red smoke just as Moira bursts in. The agent coughs, waving her arms at the stench of sulphur. She holds up her hand stopping the men behind her as she observes the metal manipulator holding Charles tightly, whispering urgent soft words in his ears - around them in a perfect shielding circle hovers glittering particles of..._dust?_

Charles's eyes snap open, glowing a beautiful luminescent blue and then as he collapses everything clatters noisily to the ground.

Wisely Moira makes no comment, chosing to focus her attention on the blond woman lying unconscious on the floor. Dark marks line her throat, and wrists as though she has been strangled...and the bed posts appear to have been ripped apart. The agent swallows a sharp anger, glancing up at the metal manipulator holding Charles so carefully. Yet Erik thinks nothing of torturing this woman without remorse?

He meets her gaze, and lifts his free hand up - a casual enough gesture on anyone else and yet the blond female's breath begins to falter as the metal band around her neck tightens once more.

Moira leaps to her feet, stepping between them, "Stop." Erik frowns, "Moira get out of my way." She shakes her head resolutely, "No this woman is a prisoner of the United States, and as such she is subject to our laws and protection."

"She is a poisonous snake who will think nothing of tearing your mind apart in her vicious schemes," he responds darkly, "I won't ask you again - step aside."

Moira holds her position. "What is going on?" Langley asks carefully as the soldiers fall in line. _How long do you think it will be before they turn upon you? _Schmidt's voice echoes mockingly in Erik's head. Moira holds up her hand, "Nothing," she calls back, her urgent gaze desperate as she looks back to Erik, "Don't do this Erik."

A soft groan has them both looking upon the smaller man, his blue eyes shattering open wearily. "Erik? Moira?" Charles asks not a little confusedly taking in the tense scene. _Erik why are we surrounded by our allies? I really think you need to work on your diplomacy skills. _"She is a greater threat to us alive Charles," Erik answers out loud his voice spreading to Langley's reach. "Even if we make it back with her - what cell do you have that will hold her? Schmidt left her behind deliberately, do you think your precious secrets will be safe from her reach?"

_She is one of us Erik, just as badly shaped by Schmidt. He's just had longer to work with her, _Charles states quietly. Erik looks upon the younger man with a frown_, she is nothing like us Charles. She chose to remain by Schmidt's side. _Charles closes his eyes,_ You don't know that. You don't know what hold he has over her. If that were me lying there what would you do?  
_

Erik does not answer, and Charles exhales sharply turning away, marching out on shaky feet through the group of armed men, out into the quiet silent air. With a frustrated sigh Erik runs after him, stopping as he observes the lone figure leaning against the shattered doorway. He tries mentally reaching out to the smaller man through their connection but feels a wall. Charles has blocked him out.

_If that were me lying there what would you do?_

How could Charles even ask him that? He would never allow Charles to get to that situation in the first place. He would do anything for the floppy haired professor, for his blue eyed childhood friend, his _soulmate_.

* * *

The plane journey back is fraught with unspoken tension.

Charles has not spoken a word to Erik since storming out the Russian villa, and the metal manipulator is filled with a righteous anger. Moira observes but does not intervene, for now Erik has not made a single action against their prisoner, and she will be damned if she provokes him.

* * *

The CIA base is a demolition wreck, a crumbled ruin of a blood bath. It seems a miracle that anyone has been left alive. Even Erik is shaken by how much gore lines the walls.

Moira witnesses the sharp anguish that crosses the telepath's face.

Erik silently enfolds the younger man in his arms hating the aching pain in his heart. He wants nothing more than to tear apart the one who has driven Charles to such aching despair.

_I can feel them Erik...their 'ghosts' linger, and echoes remain. There is such pain...such fear, _Charles muffles a quiet sob burying his face in his chest. Erik holds him tighter. ___They are safe Charles far away from here, _the metal manipulator soothes, wiping the glistening tears from those beautiful blue eyes, "Schmidt will pay." He murmurs softly, "Schmidt will pay."

The Director is thankful at Erik returning to help out with the mission, and pleased by the capture of the diamond telepath. Moira has to fight the silly notion to point out that Charles is standing right in front of him. An amused quirk tilts the smaller man's lips at her frustration, and she glowers sharply at him. "Moira what are you doing?" The Director asks curiously, breaking off in his discussion with Erik. "I'm sorry sir, just something in my eye," she murmurs rubbing her face whilst mentally berating the telepath. _I think you're enjoying this a little too much, _she scolds.

Charles is only half listening when he picks up a very familiar essence. He stops, leaving the three to go on ahead, and it takes a moment before Erik realises he is not following. _Charles? _The metal manipulator questions softly, slowing in his steps leaving the Director chatting away obliviously to Moira.

_Charles?  
_

Erik questions again, but the younger man is no longer with him, staring instead at the gruff figure stepping out of the shadows ahead.

Victor.

"Ah, here you are, I must say that we owe everything really to this fellow, without his help I fear that none of us would have survived," the Director rambles on, "though I believe I need to discuss just how much Stryker's division has been holding out on us."

"What do you mean?" Moira questions, inwardly wondering just how this man, though he has the physique of a marine and demeanour of a well seasoned soldier managed to put up enough of a defence to cause Schmidt to retreat. She finds herself stopping against her will, before she can take a step closer to the man. She blinks in surprise, before realising. _Charles what are you doing? Let me go!_

_I'm sorry Moira but its best you don't get too close...Victor is not exactly stable, _comes his gentle apology. _Victor? _She queries. _He is a mutant, _Charles continues softly, his gaze still locked with that feral blue and that is when Moira realises she should have guessed - because Victor is looking directly at the telepath, illusion be damned. Then surprisingly Victor gives a wicked grin before looking away, ignoring Moira and the Director to address the metal manipulator in a silken drawl.

"Hello Erik."

"What are you doing here?" Erik demands no pretense of civility in his voice, and Moira wonders just what in hell is going on.

"Ah I'm afraid that would be my doing," a second voice drawls and it is then that Erik recognises the agent who attempted to shoot Charles. Stryker turns to the Director with a saccarine smile, "I am sorry but there won't be any discussion between us, I simply cannot trust you - who knows what that telepath has planted in your mind." The Director blinks a startled expression crossing his face, "What are you implying?"

"You're a fool so easily persuaded and kept in the dark. You were the bait to draw them in. Don't worry your work won't be forgotten, but your usefulness has now come to an end. You should never have allowed those creatures to escape, now I must hunt them down but don't worry I've got a most excellent hound."

Erik gives a low snarl, "You won't get anywhere near them!" Stryker grins, "No? Oh but you will tell me where they have gone - quite willingly."

Moira moves to draw her weapon, only to find herself frozen once more, _Charles! _She growls. _That's just what he is waiting for, _Charles answers calmly,_ you'll set off Victor's hunting instincts if you do.  
_

_Can't you stop him? _She demands, only to feel a shiver of aprehension when he does not reply, _Charles? _She sees him shake his head, _it's not so simple, if I try I will most likely kill him.  
_

_Charles this is not the time for ethics,_ she sends back.

"And why would I do that?" The metal manipulator demands, jarring Moira back into reality. Stryker smiles coldly, "because this time I will not miss." There is a cold click of weapons being set, and Moira turns to regard the small group of men who have silently surrounded them. "Oh I anticipated your arrival Erik, in fact I was counting on it," Stryker continues with a widening grin, "Do you like my new weapons? They are plastic - no metal parts whatsoever."

Erik turns back towards the sharp pained gasp that emerges from Charles's throat. Victor has the smaller man pinned, one hand locked around his throat.

"You see?" Stryker grins, "did I forget to mention we have a special defence against telepathy." His face hardens into a dark threat ignoring the Director's confused look as he suddenly sees Charles. "You're going to tell me where the younger mutant brats have gone or you can watch as the telepath is torn limb from limb by my guard dog."

* * *

**Another cliff hanger...sorry just can't help it! **

**Please review :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: So I couldn't keep you guys waiting too long with those cliff hangers - though I apologise to those I promised an earlier update for...time just seems to fly by at the moment...also this is still subject to review and change by my beta. All mistakes etc...my own.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 13 – Ghosts**

The impasse is broken by the sudden crack of a gun.

The Director stumbles to his knees, red blood spreading across his chest.

"No..." Moira gasps battling a sharp well of fierce grief - caught and held in strong arms. "Let go of me!" She hisses sharply, stilling at the look of empathy in the metal manipulator's eyes. Erik releases her, and she pulls away. She does not need his pity.

"I see you understand," Stryker announces in the stark silence.

"Understand?" Moira glowers at the treacherous general, torn between lunging for the man's throat and moving to see if the Director still lived.

"I could use more people like you," Stryker continues smoothly.

She gives a strained laugh, "How many of my colleagues and friends have died because of your secrets? How long have you known about Hellfire?" Stryker shakes his head, "If we were not so secretive many more would be dead," his mouth curls into a sneer, "do you think Xavier is so innocent? He is one of _them!_ How much do you know of him? He is the worst kind - telepaths are creatures born of secrets."

She remains silent, and Stryker's eyes fall upon Erik assessingly, "and Lehnsherr is just a vigilante who cares for nothing but his revenge against the one who _rescued _him from the camps."

Camps?

Germany...the war...Erik would have been but a child still.

_Concentration camps? Oh Lord..._

Moira had never considered the metal manipulator was one of the _victims _of those experiments...he would have been only young when the war was going on and to fall into the hands of a man like Schmidt...she closes her eyes in rueful realisation.

"You missed out the part where my rescuerer murdered my mother in front of me," Erik interjects softly, "though you appear to have a primary source of information in Victor." Stryker givesa savage grin, "Don't worry you'll tell me all I want soon enough, and you can _watch_ as I break your beloved telepath."

Erik's expression hardens, "You'll be dead before you touch him."

Stryker chuckles his hand shifting into some silent command signal and Erik spins round at Charles's choked gasp.

Pain filled sky-blue eyes lock with fierce metallic-green.

Erik Lehnsherr was defined by two opposing extremes: his hatred for Schmidt; and his love for Charles. Were the two inexplicably interwined?

Moira was introduced to the metal manipulator on an emotion filled night following the prominant sinking of the Caspartina. A ship ripped apart by its own anchor. An act of desperation? Was Erik trying to _protect_ Charles from Schmidt? But that would imply that Charles knew of Schmidt before...

She frowns in confusion. There were too many pieces missing from the puzzle. Stryker was right in that she knew little of Charles prior to his studies at Oxford. She still did not know how he and Erik knew each other...was it all connected somehow?

Her inward musings are disrupted by derisive laughter.

"You're in no position to threaten me," Stryker declares smugly, grinning at the murderous expression on Erik's face.

**_BANG!_**

Another gunshot and this time red blooms across Stryker's chest.

The gun slips from the Director's fingers with clattering finality. _  
_

_Charles? _Moira asks tentatively only to see the telepath was locked in a struggle of his own - caught in the snarling warrior's crushing arms, and anguished indecision flickers in Lehnsherr's eyes.

Stryker struggles to issue an order blood spilling from his lips as he collapses. Why were the soldiers just standing there?

Moira draws her weapon decisively, - if she is going to die let it be at least in her own defence. Her gun fires twice - sharp and true - before she feels sharp pain in her shoulder, and stumbles back from the impact.

_Stay down woman, _a warning in her mind that is not Charles. It feels like..._Erik?  
_

The soldiers are dead before their bodies hit the ground.

It takes Moira several seconds to realise what has happened, and only then by the remaining needle like slivers of metal aligned in the air around Erik. It took just a sliver to pierce the heart and that was all the metal manipulator needed.

Stryker is down, his soldiers corpses on the ground, all that remains is Victor still holding Charles.

_What is Erik waiting for?_

"If you're going to kill me do it now," the warrior states with surprising calmness, "he can't block this collar for long."

Victor draws his claws and Erik's hesitation vanishes.

There is a horrific bone snapping crunch as a metal impacts the warrior's skull. Victor laughs shoving the telepath towards Erik as he collapses.

The metal manipulator dashes forwards slipping to his knees, cradling the smaller man in his lap. "Shh Liebling, I understand," Erik whispers running his fingers gently through the telepath's hair, his other hand he directs towards the fallen Victor, who lies in a darkening pool of blood.

"Ah - I've got it," the metal manipulator sudden smirks, and a metal collar snaps from Victor's neck clattering heavily to the floor reveal an intricate array of bloody minature circuitry.

After several long moments Victor gasps sitting up on to his knees, Moira gasps in surprise. Shouldn't he be dead?

"He heals pretty fast," Erik explains to her unasked question, "Are you alright?"

_Are you alright? _

In surprise Moira follows his gaze to her aching shoulder - surprised to see blood seeping from a wound, perhaps she is in shock? "I will be," she answers firmly watching in rapt fascination as the punctures around Victor's throat heal and then vanish. _  
_

"Are you waiting for thanks?" The warrior grouses after a long moment gathering his breath. Erik shakes his head, "I know better from you. Once a beast always a beast." A grin creases Victor's face, "True enough youngling. I see you've kept some sense at any rate." Regret passes across Victor's face as he crouches beside them, "Charlie felt them all die. I'd forgotten how much it hurt."

_Charles felt them die? _

He sniffs the air and then chuckles heavily, "I see you've moved on to grown up things...do you intend to keep him this time?" Erik scowls, and Moira's jaw drops open as the warrior reaches out and **_ruffles _**the metal manipulator's hair. "You've done well kid," Victor smirks.

Moira interrupts, "You know each other?!" Victor's grin deepens, "of course. I brought these rookies up." Erik shakes his head, "he's exaggerating. It was just a few months."

_A few months?_

"During the war?" She asks.

"Around the end of it," Victor answers, "two young mice on the run."

_Two? What was Charles doing in the midst of war torn Germany?_

The metal manipulator's expression closes down, "Stryker would turn us into attack dogs. He is not so different from Schmidt." His green eyes flicker to meet her own, _Yes Charles was there but that is his story to tell. _This time there is no mistaking the voice in her mind. "It is you!" Moira gasps, and a familiar smirk creases Erik's face. "You're not going to tell me are you?" She grumbles. "I'm sure you'll figure it out," Erik answers

Charles stirs a pained grimace creasing his features.

_He felt them die. _

"Will he be alright?" Moira asks.

Erik strokes the younger man's hair. "In time," the metal manipulator states with such certainty that she cannot help wonder, and then feels another wrench as Erik concludes, "this is nothing compared to then."

_Then being the war of course. If Charles had been stationed with Erik in Schmidt's hands...how many horror's had the telepath witnessed, how much suffering and death had he 'felt' as though it were his own?_

In many ways the war was still ongoing. It was already upon them now. She glances at the Director's body, and the fresh blood lining the cracked walls. An agency bleeding from its own rotting core.

"Erik you need to get going," Moira states softly. She is surprised when his fingers wrap gently round her wrist, "There is nothing left for you here. Come with us." She shakes her head, "Stryker is just the tip of the iceberg. I need to find out what is going on. I don't think they just conjured those collars out of thin air, and now because of me they have Frost. You heard Stryker's views on telepathy. All they need is a way to control her and you've got a powerful enemy."

"Another mind reader?" Victor asks. Erik nods, "Emma Frost, a telepath with a diamond skin."

"She sounds interesting," the warrior remarks. He carefully lifts up the broken collar, rumaging inside the remains before prizing out a small chip. "This controls the damned thing," he growls holding it up in the light. Erik warily takes it - not letting it touch his skin. Victor smirks, "I'm betting you can figure it out."

Victor then holds the collar up, and Erik replaces the now defunct device back around the warrior's neck.

"What are you doing?" Moira asks in confusion. "You're one brave lady," Victor smirks, "but you'll need more than guts to get into Stryker's divison." Moira shakes her head, "I'm supposed to just trust you?" Victor grins, "fair enough, you have some sense - do you trust Charles?"

_Do you trust Charles? _

Well that was the question wasn't it? Stryker was right in one sense, she knew very little of Charles's past, yet his present...was a young intelligent hardworking dedicated man who would not hesitate to risk his life to save others. Perhaps Xavier had his secrets (like anyone) but perhaps he also had his reasons.

"Charles always had a poor sense of judgement," Erik remarks casually. Victor grins, and extends his hand to Moira, "if it helps any, consider I owe a few of those guys some payback, and so it seems do you." Moira meets his gaze firmly before allowing herself to be helped to her feet.

"Perhaps Charles was right about you," Erik acknowledges softly. She gives a wry laugh, "careful your hard image is cracking." She bites her lip as pain lances through her shoulder, but stands strong, "take care of him."

She turns back to regard Victor - only for a powerful fist to catch her across the jaw.

Victor catches Moira in his arms - the agent knocked out cold.

"What are you doing?" Erik frowns. Victor smirks, "You think Stryker's division is just going to accept she escaped from you with so little injuries? Consider it an initiation gift." The metal manipulator shakes his head, "You've not changed one bit. Give her to me. This is not going to work." Victor smirks, "Ah but you've got our young darling to take care of...are you sure you can handle a wounded agent as well? She's bleeding pretty bad from that wound...I can have her treated in 20 minutes. Can you? Can you risk taking Charlie near a hospital in his state?"

Erik closes his eyes, and Victor chuckles, "Don't worry maus, I can't guarantee anything you know that best of anyone, but I'll do my best to look after her."

Soft voices carry on the air. Finally the backup is arriving, alerted to the ruckus.

"Go on you heard the lady get out of here," Victor urges. The voices are rapidly gaining ground now. Decisively Erik lifts Charles up over his shoulder, taking off into a steady run out into the open air.

Victor chuckles, "my how the children have grown."

He turns to face the newcomers, the unconscious Moira held in his arms like a newly wed bride, "time to spin our tale of woe my dear..." the warrior murmurs to unhearing ears.

* * *

Erik gets out of the car and steadies Charles as they walk up to the looming building. They are almost there now, and yet the shadowed visage of the mansion before them eclipses the younger man's memories, and this is but a fraction the size of the burnt out shell in England. How much more magnificent must that have been?

The taller man stops a familiar prickling feeling running down his back, and holds up his hand as the bushes part with a loud warning growl. "Logan?" He gapes, staring at the bemused looking warrior whose claws are extended and resting but an inch from his throat. He had not even sensed the warrior's approach - even with his metal skeleton. Erik reflexively snaps his palm up - avoiding being tackled to the ground, and holds up the second Wolverine in mid-air. For a long moment Erik can only stare at the pair in surprise.

Charles stirs lifting his head from Erik's shoulder, "Raven you're getting better," he praises, and they are both suddenly embraced by a very blue _naked _shapeshifter. "Raven!" Charles yelps, "Cl-clothes!" Logan chuckles and Erik frowns releasing his grip on the warrior's skeleton letting him crash to the ground.

"Aww come on Rookie, I thought you would be into the whole freedom of expression-" Logan grumbles rubbing his head.

Charles drapes his jacket over his sister's shoulders. There is a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Her brother is not so amused. "Logan," Charles turns stonily, "I see you've decided to join us." The warrior snorts, "I had a rather itching inclination to come this way. Did you leave something behind in my head rugrat?"

Charles pinches his nose, "so you decide to corrupt my sister as revenge?" The warrior snorts, "she needs no help getting into trouble I tell you."

"Trouble? What kind of trouble?" Erik rumbles looming over Logan, "she better not be pregnant."

"Erik!" Raven exclaims in mortification covering her face. "Well what do you expect?" The metal manipulator remarks with a sly smirk. "You're so embarrassing!" She shrieks, "you're worse than Charles!"

"Hey!" Charles protests, faltering as Logan steps close and begins to sniff the air round him and then his clothes, "Logan what are you doing?" The Wolverine buries his nose in the telepath's neck ignoring Erik's low warning growl. "_His_ scent is on you..." Logan sniffs the air, and looks at Erik, "both of you."

"Yes," Erik answers deftly tugging Charles back to his side, and Raven muffles a soft laugh at his possessiveness. The metal manipulator uncurls his palm revealing a micro chip, "This may answer some questions." Logan stills looking at the circuit board, "What are you saying?"

_Not in front of the children._

"Why don't we all go inside, and have a nice cup of tea?" Charles offers, and Raven loop her hand through Erik's other side propelling the metal manipulator forwards. "Tea?" Logan snorts, "Rugrat...can you get any more English?" Raven laughs.

"Tea is the perfect accompaniment to light conversation. What is wrong with tea?" A new voice pipes up and they see a figure casually leaning against the doorway, "mon ami I despair of refining your tastes." Logan snorts. "Ahh," Charles pulls out of Erik's grasp blue eyes shining in delight, "Logan...you found him!"

"And you must be Charles...I've heard so much about you!" The stranger greets in turn, planting a warm kiss on the telepath's cheeks. Erik simmers in silent fury as the flamboyant stranger embraces Charles, and then leans back - eyes scandalously taking in the telepath's body - admiring him like a model. "And you are?" Erik addresses sharply, tugging Charles out of the man's arms, only for those bright flirtatious eyes to settle on himself. "Oh my...such a handsome fellow...Logan you did not do him justice at all!" The young man grins, "Allow me to introduce myself." Red energy begins to flow from the man's hands to a small playing card, before he releases it into the air, and there is a glittering explosive bang.

"Remy Le Beau at your service."

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